To Catch a Rat
by meschnese
Summary: Mason Gold is a powerful man, conducting illegal business. Belle French is an assistant to Emma Sawn, an Organized Crime Agent in Boston. Belle unwittingly becomes involved with Gold, after an operation fails, leading her to come to a difficult decision: catch the mobster or save the man she loves. AU
1. Criminal Business

**This story idea just popped into my head and I had to write it. It will be a multi-chapter fic. **

**I'm still working on my other story _Gold On the Ceiling_, so if you are reading that, no worries. I'll still update once a week. I'll also try to update once a week in this story as well. **

**The full summary is: Mason Gold is a powerful man, conducting illegal business. Belle French is an assistant to Emma Sawn, an Organized Crime Agent in Boston. She unwittingly becomes involved with Gold, after her team decides to infiltrate Gold's crime ring by placing a mole in its midst. Caught up in a cat and mouse chase, Belle has to figure out how to do the right thing: catch the mobster or save the man she loves.**

**This story is kind of based off the film _The Departed, _but it is very different. The only thing in common my story has with the film is the idea of a police officer undercover as a mole in a mobster's gang, and one of the mobster's men undercover as a mole playing a police officer. So the whole idea of catching a rat is similar, but I'm not taking any dialogue from the film. Any other similarities are coincidental. **

**Another note: I am not a detective or police officer. I'm a college student majoring in English with a minor in creative writing, so I apologize for any mistakes or inaccuracies concerning police jargon. I'm trying my best. **

**I posted this first chapter earlier, and now have gone back and revised this chapter so it makes a little more sense. Thanks so much to CharlotteAshmore for editing this chapter for me. **

**Hope everyone likes the chapter!**

* * *

><p>Belle had her head stuck in a book, like usual. She was sitting at her desk in the thirteenth precinct of Organized Crime division. She wasn't studying for anything, far from it. She was reading for pleasure, which she probably shouldn't have been doing, since she was at work. But her craving to read the new release of <em>Jane Eyre <em>had been overpowering. It was one of her favorite novels, and she really wanted to see if the new edition had any side notes, or letters from the editor. She found them very interesting.

Since she was so caught up in her novel, she failed to notice her boss Emma Swan walking past, rolling her eyes. Belle, however, did notice when her coworker, Ruby Lucas, slammed a box of doughnuts in front of her face. Mostly because Ruby waved them directly in between Belle's face and her book.

Belle glanced up to see Ruby smirking. "Finally caught your attention," Ruby teased, sitting back in her chair. Their desks faced each other, making their flow of conversation easy and comfortable.

Belle smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." She held up her book. "I was distracted again."

Ruby nodded, returning her smile. "I can tell. It only took me about twenty minutes of shouting your name, throwing gum wrappers at your head, and starting a fire in the precinct for me to get you to look up from that book." She grabbed the novel from Belle's hands. "And it's not even a smut novel!" Ruby exclaimed.

Belle laughed, blushing. "Well, not all of us are as horny as you are, Ruby."

Ruby mocked gasped. "Ouch, Belle. Your claws are coming out."

Belle smiled, shaking her head. "No, just my intellect," she said, proudly.

Ruby laughed. "That's for sure. You're one of the smartest girls I've ever met."

Belle blushed at the praise. It was true though. Belle graduated high school when she was fifteen, and finished college when she was nineteen. Now she was twenty two, and working her way up at the station. Right now she and Ruby were still fledgling detectives, but Belle was hoping in a few years to be the head of organized crime, stationed in Boston. Emma, her boss, was second in command, holding the rank of Lieutenant detective. They all came together under the tough as nails Captain, Regina Mills. That woman was intimidating, but she got her work done. As a woman, Regina had to be tough, considering the BPD was the third largest law enforcement agency in New England. She had to prove herself.

Ruby flipped through _Jane Eyre_, chewing on a stick of gum. Red cinnamon, of course. "With all this time spent reading, why didn't you become an English teacher, or author, or something?"

Belle shrugged. "I do love to write, but working as a detective seemed just too much fun." Ruby lifted an inquisitive brow. Belle elaborated. "I love the idea of being a hero, going out and saving the day from criminals. It was too exciting a job to pass up."

Ruby nodded. "I hear you." Ruby started to grin, wickedly. "Catching the bad guys gets you all hot and bothered, doesn't it." She said it like a statement.

"Ruby," Belle sighed, blushing.

Her coworker lifted her hands in surrender. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding." She tossed the book back to Belle. Her partner was careful to catch it, not wanting the novel to get hurt. She scowled at Ruby's lack of concern for a book's well being. "I'm serious though, Belle. When are you going to do something other than go to work and read? When was the last time you've been on a real date?"

Belle hesitated, biting her lip. "Umm, never?" She shrugged her shoulders.

Ruby's mouth dropped open. "Belle!"

"What?" Belle asked, innocently.

Ruby slammed her hands on her desk, shock written all over her face. "You've never been on a real date?" Belle shrugged again, looking sheepish. "You're twenty-two!"

Belle whipped her head around, shushing Ruby. "Keep it down. No one needs to know."

"What, you mean your total lack in normal social conventions?" Ruby said, still looking shocked. "Yeah, no one needs to know that."

Belle sighed, grabbing at her book. She held it in front of her chest, like a shield. "I've been busy with school and then the academy. Since I started working at the precinct, I've had no time to think about men with my schedule," she grumbled.

Ruby snorted. "We have the same schedule. I don't have any problems picking up men."

Belle didn't want to say that Ruby's extracurricular activities were somewhat suspect. Ruby spent a _little _too much time thinking about men more than work. Belle, not wanting to offend her friend, didn't say that, though. In stead she shrugged and said, "It's not a big deal."

That statement made Ruby look even more shocked. "Not a big deal?" She spluttered. "Belle, you're twenty-two," she repeated.

"You don't have to keep saying that," Belle sighed. "I know I'm twenty-two!"

Ruby settled back in her seat. She had leaned forward at Belle's news. "Fine, you've never been on a date. But at least tell me that you've had...relations...with men before."

Belle looked around the precinct helplessly. No one was going to save her from Ruby Lucas. "Define 'relations.'"

Ruby snorted. "You know, getting laid, one night stands with insanely attractive men that you will never see again and hoping that you didn't catch a sex disease because of it." Belle just looked dubious. Ruby continued. "You know, _sex_," she emphasized.

Belle bit her lip again. At this rate she would chew right through it. She didn't say anything. The only thing she did was shrug her shoulders helplessly again, and stare at her book. Her trusty good book, the one friend that wouldn't judge her, or drive her insane.

Ruby's eyes widened. "Don't tell me, Belle." She whipped her head around the room, staging a whisper. "You're a virgin?!"

Belle squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, nodding. She was already flinching from what she knew would come next. Ruby's onslaught of questions.

"How the hell are you still a virgin?" Ruby was still trying to whisper and shout at the same time.

Belle sighed. "It just never happened," she mumbled. "I was so caught up with school and wanting to spend my time reading and studying that I hardly noticed any boys."

Ruby finally acquiesced. "Ok, I'll give you that one." She held up one finger. "But still, Belle, we really need to get you laid."

"Who needs to get laid?" Emma asked, walking up.

Ruby nodded at Belle, whose face was beat red. "She's never had sex."

Emma was taking a sip of her hot chocolate at the moment, then spit it out at Ruby's declaration. Ruby quickly held up a legal pad to block the spray of warm chocolate from staining her clothes. Emma's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Interesting," she coughed.

Ruby nodded. "I know right! This requires a serious intervention."

Emma smirked, nodding at their empty desks. "Why aren't you two working? I had a case file for you guys to look at. It's sitting right there on your desks." Sure enough, it was. Front and center.

Belle blushed. Ruby fidgeted. "Well," Ruby said, trying to think of something on the spot, "Belle and I got so caught up in our conversation, that we actually forgot about the work that we were supposed to be doing. But you know, Swan, I think Belle being a virgin is enough incentive to be distracted." Belle shot Ruby a glare. Ruby smiled innocently. Emma gave Ruby a pointed look."So, we'll get right on that case file, don't worry."

Emma nodded, not buying any of Ruby's innocence. "That would probably be a good idea." She started to turn away, when she stepped back. "And don't worry about being a virgin, Belle. We are all one at some point." She knocked on Belle's desk, walking away.

Belle knew that Emma was just trying to be nice, but she didn't have to say it so loudly. Ruby snorted, opening the folder. Belle was just wondering when this day of embarrassment would end.

* * *

><p>"So, I'm thinking we should set you up a profile on Tinder," Ruby said. Belle and she were walking home from the station. It was still light out enough for them to feel safe. Just because they were detectives in training didn't mean they were not afraid to walk home after dark...because they were.<p>

Belle sighed. "Ruby, drop it. I don't need to meet any guys. I'm perfectly fine as is." Her high heels were clacking on the concrete.

"That's because you've never known the pleasure an experienced man can give you," Ruby replied. She stepped around a wad of gum on the ground. Belle rolled her eyes, as Ruby wagged a finger. "If you did, then you wouldn't be saying that." Ruby paused, tilting her head to the side. "You are into guys, right?"

Belle laughed, exasperated. "Yes, Ruby. I'm into men. Not women."

Ruby nodded. "Ok, just wondering. I didn't want it to be awkward if, this entire time I've been talking about cocks, you're actually into, you know, pussy."

Belle blushed and snorted. "Ruby! Gross."

"No it's not." Ruby shook her head. "It only sounds gross because you've never had it."

Belle just shook her head. "You are so crude sometimes."

Ruby smiled. "But that's what you love about me." She furrowed her brow. "And, how is it, that we've been working together the past year, and I never knew any of this about you?"

"I'm not sure," Belle responded, a slight breeze ruffling her hair. "I guess it's due to the fact that you're not very observant."

Ruby mocked gasped, lightly swatting Belle on the arm. "You can be such a bitch." She was teasing.

Belle laughed. "And you can be too nosy."

"True. I need answers to everything." They reached Belle's apartment. Ruby's was just down the street.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rubes," Belle said, walking up the steps to her door.

Ruby saluted. "See ya later, bitch." Ruby strolled away. Belle shook her head in exasperated lightness. Ruby was too funny.

Belle made her way to her apartment. It was a decent building. It wasn't run down, but neither was it posh. It was cozy and comfortable. But most of all, it was a safe place.

She made dinner for herself, and afterward looked at the case file Emma assigned them. It was on a man known as Keiran Hook. He apparently worked for some crime lord, the police just didn't know who. There were no pictures of Hook, just a description on the illegal activities he had taken part in. Emma wanted to catch this man, hoping he would lead her to his boss.

Belle put the folder away, knowing she didn't have enough information to do anything tonight. She glanced around her little apartment, feeling, for the first time, somewhat lonely. Maybe she should get a cat. Some company would potentially help get Ruby off her case. After realizing that, Belle nodded.

She would definitely get a cat.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Belle stopped off at a quaint little diner called <em>Granny's<em>. They served amazing hot chocolate. She didn't always stop by, but she really was in the mood for a chocolate fix.

After she settled down, with her hot chocolate and another book, this time _Pride and Prejudice_, she got to reading. The diner was never full, this day being no exception. So most of the people in the diner stood out. But she noticed one person in particular.

The man had been sitting at one of the back corners, when she showed up. He was in a clean, nice suit. He even had a handkerchief in the jacket pocket. Belle admitted to herself that he had nice hair. It was touching his shoulders, brown with a touch of gray at his temples. But what really caught Belle's attention, was the book in his hands.

Whenever she noticed someone else reading, Belle was filled with a burning curiosity to know what book it was. She didn't want to disturb the man by going up and asking what he was reading, so she shifted in her seat to get a better look at the front page. She sighed in frustration. From her angle, she couldn't make anything out.

It was at this time, in which she was shifting around, that the man decided to take his eyes off his book and look at her. Belle immediately stopped moving, having been caught. She looked away quickly, opening her own book. She had no idea if he was still looking at her, but she hoped not. That had been embarrassing.

Belle tried to force her concentration back on her own book, but to no avail. She really wanted to know what the man was reading. She lifted her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw he was immersed back in his own book. Belle shifted again, and this time she stood a little to get a better look. But she still couldn't see. He had the cover angled downward. Standing up wasn't going to help.

But before she could sit back down, the man caught her gaze again. He frowned, not looking pleased. Belle let out a little squeak, hurriedly sitting back in her seat. Her face was flushed. She sneaked another peek at the man, and saw that he was reading again. He reached up to take a sip from his mug.

Belle was getting anxious. _I really just want to know what book he's reading, and then I'll be fine_, she told herself. This time, she leaned back in her seat. The two front legs came off the ground. She was squinting, thinking for a moment, that she could make out the words, when, of course, the man looked back up. He definitely did not look pleased.

Belle, in the shock of being caught, _again_, tipped back father in her chair. The legs wobbled, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on her back. Her chair had slipped out from under her.

"Ooof!" The breath was knocked from her body. If she thought she was embarrassed before, then this new incident was surely humiliating.

She was trying to right herself, and get up, when a hand showed up, right in her face. Belle glanced up to see the man, whose book she had been trying to make out, standing before her. He was holding onto a cane with his right hand, his left hand was outstretched towards her. Belle gulped, and blushed. He looked irritated and amused at the same time.

Belle reached out her hand to take his, and slowly got to her feet. The man pulled his hand away, settling both on the handle of his cane. Belle had no idea what to say.

"Is there a reason," he asked in a Scottish lilt, "that you were trying, not very subtly, to look at me?" He tilted his head, frowning.

Belle gulped again. "Uh, no." She was breathless from her fall. He gave her a pointed look. He seemed very powerful, Belle thought. His stance and presence made him seem like a man not to be toyed with. "I actually wanted to see what book you were reading," she said, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

It was clear from his expression of surprise that he was not expecting that answer. "You went to all that trouble, to see what I was reading?" He sounded dubious. It was clear he didn't believe her.

She nodded, trying not to look guilty. It wasn't as if she did anything wrong. The only thing she could be accused of was her lack of subtly, and overeagerness. "I love books." She grabbed her own, holding it up. "I have this urge, that when I see someone else reading, to know what book it is." She was rambling. "I really just wanted to know."

His hard expression softened a little. He started to smirk. He reached back towards his own table, and grabbed his book. He held it up for her to see.

"Crime and Punishment," she read aloud. "You like Russian novels?"

His lips twitched. "Well, it seems that if I'm reading it, I would indeed like Russian novels."

Belle blushed, laughing a little. "Oh, right. That would make sense."

He nodded, steadily looking at her. "It would," he agreed.

She hesitated. "Do you like it?"

He became speculative. "It's a little dry in some parts. But I can appreciate the anguish Raskolnikov goes through after he commits murder."

"You can appreciate it?" Belle was confused.

His smirk grew. "I can understand it," was all he said.

She felt a grin hover over her lips. "You've committed any murders recently?"

He chuckled. "All the time."

She laughed a little. Then realization dawned on her. She held out her hand "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Belle French."

He shook her hand. "Hello, Miss French."

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" She tilted her head.

He pulled his hand back. "Maybe some other time."

She furrowed her brow. "Why won't you tell me your name?"

He smirked again. "Why are you so eager for it?"

She flushed. "I'm not. I'm just curious," she said, softly.

He seemed to take pity on her, when he could tell she was being sincere. "I just don't like handing out my name all that often. Names are power."

"You think I'm trying to control you?" Belle couldn't tell if he was teasing her or not. He seemed partly serious and yet, partly mocking.

He refolded his hands on his cane, shifting his feet. "I think you're trying to find out my name, and can't understand why I'm not giving it."

Belle nodded. "That's exactly what I'm thinking."

"Then we are exactly on the same page."

Belle's head was reeling. "...Ok?"

He chuckled again. "Have a good day, Miss French." He picked up his book, pulling on his jacket. "I'm afraid I have to go. Sad, since I was enjoying our conversation immensely."

Belle pursed her lips. "It seemed like you were teasing me the entire time."

He smirked. "Exactly. That's why I enjoyed it." He nodded at her, and left the diner.

Belle was left standing there, clutching at her book. She did not understand that man. He was strange, yet charming. _Pretty handsome_, she admitted to herself. She rarely gave men the time of day, always having her nose stuck in a book. But one thing was for sure, she could not stop thinking about him.

* * *

><p>Belle reached the station an hour later. Even though she couldn't stop thinking about the man she'd just met, that still didn't mean she couldn't finish her chapter. She arrived at the precinct of Organized Crime, rushing over to her desk. Ruby was already there, chewing gum, and filing her nails.<p>

"It's official," Belle said, taking off her jacket and sitting down, "we are the worst assistants anyone could ever have."

Ruby snorted. "Speak for yourself, miss 'constantly distracted by books you don't get your work done.' I'm only working on my nails."

Belle shook her head. "When you should be looking over the file Emma gave us. The one on a man named Keiran Hook."

Ruby grabbed the file. "I can look and work on my nails at the same time," she said, proudly.

"That's exactly what I don't want," Emma grumbled, passing by. "Focus." She directed the statement at both Belle and Ruby, before heading into her office.

Belle was excitedly sharpening her pencil, humming to herself.

Ruby looked up. "That's the most excited I've ever seen someone sharpen a pencil. What's up?"

Belle blushed. "Oh, nothing. Just distracted."

"Yeah," Ruby muttered, dryly. "Read a good book?"

Belle stopped sharpening her pencil. "Of course," she said. "That's not the reason though."

"Well, what _is_ the reason?" Ruby asked, smirking. When Belle didn't respond, Ruby's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit!" She didn't even try to whisper. Regina Mills, the head of the Organized Crime division, was passing by at the moment, going to get a glass of water. She frowned at Ruby's choice of words, but just sighed, and continued walking.

Ruby continued to speak. "You met a guy, didn't you?"

Belle blushed again, wiping pencil shavings off her desk. "I didn't _meet _a guy. I just spoke with a man today when I went to get hot chocolate."

Ruby became sly. "Yeah, I know how you are with your chocolate fixes. But, seriously, you met someone?"

Belle shrugged. "Like I said, I just spoke with him."

"Why _did _you speak with him?" Ruby asked. "You never make a conscious effort to speak with guys."

Belle turned sheepish. "Well, I might have wanted to see what book he was reading, and in the process of trying to read the cover, I fell over in my chair."

Ruby just stared at her. "What?"

"I fell over in my chair, trying to read the cover of his book," Belle repeated.

Ruby waved a hand. "Yeah, I heard that. Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

Ruby popped a bubble with her gum. "Why didn't you just go over and ask him?"

Belle frowned. "I didn't want to disturb him!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Yes, and falling over in your chair was a better idea," she said, sarcastically. "For someone so bright, you surly have a lot to learn. Any way, then what happened after?"

"After?" Belle shook her head in confusion.

Ruby sighed. "After you fell out of your chair, then what happened?"

"He came over and helped me up. We got to talking about his book."

Ruby clearly was waiting for more information. When she didn't get any, she waved her hands toward Belle. "So, what book was he reading?"

"Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky."

Ruby looked impressed. "Wow. Russian novel."

Belle smiled. "That's what I said."

Ruby smirked. "Guess he's a keeper, isn't he?"

Belle shook her head. "Oh, Ruby. You are too much."

"Is he hot?" Ruby leaned forward in her seat.

Belle sighed, rolling her eyes. "He's not ugly, if that's what you're wondering." She paused. "He's actually pretty handsome," she said, sheepishly. "He has great hair." She added as an afterthought.

"Oh?" Ruby raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Did he look like he had a big, you know?" She pointed towards her lap.

Belle furrowed her brow, face flushing when she realized what Ruby was suggesting. "Ruby! No, I didn't notice anything. Besides he was wearing a suit. It wasn't as if he was naked."

"I should hope not," Ruby muttered. "It's the middle of the day."

"Can we drop this?" Belle asked, hopelessly.

Ruby sighed. "Fine. But can you tell me his name, at least."

Belle hesitated. "He didn't actually tell me."

"Huh," Ruby said, sitting back. "Well, did you ask for it?"

"Of course I did!" Belle said, exasperated. She paused, asking quietly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ruby responded. "You're just completely lacking in any knowledge, men wise."

Belle snorted. "So you mean, I wouldn't know how to ask a man for his name?"

Ruby paused. "Yeah." She nodded.

Belle rolled her eyes. She leaned forward in her own seat, dropping her voice. "But isn't it strange though, that he wouldn't tell me his name?"

Ruby shrugged. "Not really. Some people are just really secretive. Maybe his name is _really _embarrassing. "

"I guess," Belle responded.

"This is a monumental day, though," Ruby said, spitting out her gum, and popping in another piece. "Belle's first ever crush on a man." She wiped imaginary tears from her eyes. "I'm so proud."

Belle swatted at Ruby's arm. "I didn't say I had a crush."

Ruby eyed Belle. "You can't keep your mind off him. I would say that's a crush."

"I never said I couldn't keep my mind off him. I just said the thought of him was distracting me."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Ergo... you have a crush on this man."

Belle sighed. "It's not that. There was something so...different about him. Intriguing."

"I still think you have a crush," Ruby staged whispered.

Belle was about to respond when Emma breezed past, telling Belle and Ruby to meet in Regina's office. It was important. Small talk would have to wait. Duty called.

* * *

><p>Captain Regina Mills, head of the department of Organized Crime, sighed, placing her hands on the back of her chair. Belle and Ruby entered her office after Emma, carrying notepads. Another detective, David Nolan, was already standing in a corner.<p>

"What's going on?" Emma asked. "Do we have any news on Hook."

"Yes, we do," Regina replied.

Emma's expression became hopeful. "What do we know?"

Regina sat down behind her desk. "We know that a man who works for him, Jefferson Hatter, is holding a meeting at a bar, called The Idiot, downtown tomorrow night. Probably to promote lower status men into the crime ring."

"But it's Hook we want," David said.

"If Jefferson works for Hook," Emma said, hopefully, "then he might be able to lead us to him."

"And if we can find Hook," Regina added, "then we might be able to find who Hook is really working for."

"Why do you think Hook is working for someone?" Belle asked, writing down the discussion for later perusal.

Emma snorted. "There is no way that man is smart enough to be a leader in one of Boston's foremost criminal gangs. Reportedly he is a high school dropout, with little work ethic."

"He's evasive though," Regina muttered. "We haven't been able to identify him. None of our detectives have ever seen him. We're only told what little we can find."

"How did you find this man, Jefferson?" Ruby asked.

David held up a flyer. "Apparently he's a music scout, looking for the next big band. August, another one of our detectives, was at a concert for some local band, and overheard Jefferson speaking to someone about Hook."

"Who was Jefferson speaking with?" Belle asked.

Regina sighed. "We don't know. August wasn't able to hear a name, and the room was too dark to make out the mystery person. But we looked into Jefferson's past a little," Regina said, "and discovered who he really works for. A music scout is just his cover."

"If you don't mind my asking," Belle raised her hand, "but what are we going to do about Hook. I assume one of our detectives are going to the bar where Jefferson is having his meeting?"

Regina smirked. "You assume correct, French." She nodded at David. "We're sending this guy undercover to infiltrate Hook's ring. He'll meet with Jefferson, and report back to us."

"I'll try to get into the ring," David said. "Work my way up until I can find out who Hook is exactly. After that, I'll try to find the real boss."

Belle nodded, writing. "What if something goes wrong?"

Regina smiled. "Everything goes wrong at some point, French. That's why we'll be prepared to send in Swan, incase Nolan fails. One way or another, we will catch these men. They'll be put away and that's that."

"I wish it could be me," Emma muttered. "Instead of this knucklehead." She teased, nodding at David.

"Hey," David said. "Not funny, Swan." But he was clearly smiling, teasing back.

"It will be a lot less conspicuous for a man to invade the gang," Regina said, knowingly. "Being a female will draw more attention, more likelihood of getting caught. But, of course, if Nolan fails, Swan is our best detective. For right now though," she looked right at Emma, "you'll have to take the back seat."

Emma nodded. "I know."

Regina nodded as well. "This mission is only for our ears." She looked pointedly at Ruby. "No one is allowed to discuss this outside my office." She nodded at Belle and Ruby's notepads. "Those are for you to keep inside folders, which will remain here. We don't need Nolan getting caught before he can even begin. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Captain Mills," everyone in the room said in unison.

Regina nodded again. "Then you are all dismissed."

Ruby spoke to Belle as they made their way back to their desks. "This is so exciting!"

Belle shushed her. "Didn't you hear what the Captain just said? Keep it down."

Ruby grinned, sheepishly. "Sorry. But this is exciting."

"Not if something goes wrong," Belle whispered. "Lets just get back to work."

"Or," Ruby said, slyly, "you can continue telling me about your mystery man." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Belle sighed. "Another time, Rubes. We have to work."

* * *

><p>The black bag was lifted off Mr. Clark's face. The little man squinted, trying to make out where he was. Gold could have easily told him that he was strapped to a chair, in an abandoned warehouse. But it was more satisfying to see the struggling man figure it out for himself.<p>

Mr. Clark finally got a clear view of his surroundings, feeling a trickle of fear on the back of his neck. He gasped when Gold stepped right in front of him. "M-Mr. Gold," he stammered.

Gold smirked, resting his hands on his cane. "Mr. Clark, do you know where you are?" He asked in a deceptively calm tone, his brogue thick.

The little man struggled against his binds. His hands were held taught to the chair by wire, the copper digging painfully into his skin. "A warehouse?" He asked, sneezing.

Gold's lips twitched. "Yes, that's right." He started to walk around the chair. "And do you know _why _you are here?"

"Uh," Clark jumped when Gold's cane tapped on the ground behind him, "I'm not sure."

Gold sighed. "Wrong answer, Mr. Clark." He nodded at two other men in the room. They stepped up to Clark, grabbing his hands. "You are here, Mr. Clark, because you owe me money."

The man stilled in his struggling. "Oh, that," he said, quietly.

Gold chuckled. It wasn't a nice sound. "Yes, that. You forgot to pay me back when I loaned you money for that pharmacy equipment you were in such dire need for. We made a deal. I loaned you the money, on the condition you would sell the contraband drugs I gave you. Since you failed in the latter, I must demand my money back.

Clark whipped his head around to stare at Gold. "It wasn't in the contact."

Gold walked back to stand in front of Clark. "That's because you didn't read it fully." He snapped his fingers, and another man stepped up to give him a piece of paper. Gold cleared his throat before reading. "'By signing this, I, Mr. Milton Clark, hereby agree to repay any and all monies I borrowed from the lender, Mr. Mason Gold, if I am unable to perform in my duties assigned by him.'" He looked up from the paper. "It clearly states that. You signed it after all." He shoved the paper in Clark's face, pointing. "That is your signature, is it not?" He handed the paper away.

Clark flushed. "I must have missed it. But who's to say that you didn't just add that in after?" he asked, his voice trembling with false bravado.

Gold looked at him speculatively. "You're right," he mused. "I could have." He nodded at the men holding onto Clark's hands. They took both of his index fingers and bent backwards. A sharp snap was heard, as well as Clark's pitiful cries of pain.

"Why would you do that?!" Clark hung his head, holding back tears.

Gold flicked a piece of hair that fell in his eye away. "Because you accused me of forging a perfectly legal and fair document. I don't cheat when making deals," he growled.

"I'm sorry," Clark said, sobbing. "I'll get you the money." He sounded desperate.

Gold tisked. "Now see, I still want the money..._and_ the interest you owe me, but you didn't pay your dues on time. Now you owe late fees, penalties..." His voice tailed away, as a menacing smile graced his thin lips. "I requested the money a week ago. I gave you three months to regain it back." He lifted a hand to his chest. "That was very generous of me. I took pity on you, Mr. Clark."

The little man was still sobbing, looking at his broken fingers. Gold continued to speak. "Clearly I shouldn't have, since you, not only failed in returning the money you owe me, but you also cause undue embarrassment. I don't normally give people so long to return what is rightfully mine, and by not doing so, some of my men think I'm becoming soft."

He bent down in front of Clark, to see the man's face better. It was beet red and puffy from crying. "Do you think I've become soft, Mr. Clark?" Gold asked, quietly.

The little man shook his head furiously. "Not at all, Mr. Gold."

"Then where is my money?" Gold tilted his head to the side.

"I'll get you it," Clark blubbered. "It's only four grand. I can handle that."

Gold threw back his head and laughed mockingly at the cowering man. "Four thousand? Surely you jest, Mr. Clark." He shook his head gravely. "Oh no. Perhaps if you paid the four thousand on time, that would have sufficed." He rubbed his chin, thinking. "But, now I'll take no less than...say...eight?"

"Eight thousand dollars?!" The pharmacist gasped. "That's insane...outrageous!"

Gold shook his head. "Not really. You'll have until Friday night to repay me."

Clark lifted his head. "But that's tomorrow."

"Exactly. And you had three months before that." Gold lifted an eyebrow. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?" He leaned back, folding his hands atop the gilt handle of his cane. "Because if you don't return my money to me by tomorrow night, then..." He trailed off, leaving it to the imagination.

Clark nodded, eagerly. "I promise. I'll get you the money."

Gold nodded once, signaling for Clark to be let go. The two men that broke Clark's fingers, untied his binds. Clark looked helplessly at his hands.

Gold pointed to Clark's fingers. "You might want to get that looked at."

Clark just nodded, while two men escorted him from the warehouse. Before he could leave, Gold's cold heavily accented voice stopped him. "Mr. Clark, just so you understand," he said, pausing for Clark to turn around. Gold smirked, not speaking to let anticipation and fear set in. "Don't think this relieves you of the obligation to remove my merchandise. I still expect you to sell it."

The little man nodded shakily, fear twisting his gut, and followed the two 'henchmen' from the building.

A chuckle was heard behind Gold. He turned to see Killian Jones strolling up.

"Poor bastard," Killian said, shaking his head, smiling. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

Gold chuckled. "Killian," he acknowledged. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to keep you company, old man," Killian grinned.

"Shouldn't you be prepping Jefferson for tomorrow night's meeting?"

Killian waved a hand. "All ready did that. The mad hatter is ready."

"Recruiting new men is not a laughing matter," Gold said, gritting his teeth. "We need men in our midst that we can trust."

Killian nodded. "Jefferson will sort that out. I'm not worried. That man is good at detecting lies."

Gold sighed. "That is true." He pointed at Killian. "But you are not to show yourself at The Idiot tomorrow night. I received intel that the police might be on to you. We don't need them discovering your true identity."

Killian saluted. "The police will only know Kieran Hook. I wont let them onto me."

Gold nodded. "Let it stay that way. I don't need them discovering who you are. Killian Jones is one of their detectives. Kieran Hook isn't. If they find out who you actually are, that could ruin our entire empire."

"We also don't need the police finding out that Mr. Gold, infamous millionaire of Gold Enterprises, who owns half this city, is actually a criminal involved in illegal business," Killian smirked.

Gold smirked as well. "If the police are as smart as they pretend to be, then they would have assumed I'm a part of some illegal activity. They just can't pin anything on me. It will remain that way." He gave Killian a pointed look.

Killian held his arms out wide. "Hey, do you really think I would expose you? You raised me after all. Almost like a son."

Gold sighed. "And that's exactly why I don't trust you. You're too much like me."

Killian laughed. "Old man, you have nothing to worry about. I wouldn't betray you."

"I should hope not," Gold said, quietly. "Now we should leave." He let out an aggrieved sigh. "We can't return to this warehouse."

"I know," Killian sighed. "Can't let the police find out where our illegal happenings go down."

Gold chuckled. "And let us keep it that way."

They left the warehouse through different entrances, Gold sliding into his Cadillac. He started to drive home, feeling smug. He was making millions, ran an entire empire, both legally and illegally, and the police, try as they might, could not pin anything on him.

He brushed off his cufflinks, smirking. This was just another day at the office.

* * *

><p><strong>So if any one is confused, Killian Jones is Kieran Hook. Killian and Gold's backstory will be explained through out the story.<strong>

**Upcoming: David meets Jefferson, Belle definitely has a crush, and Ruby continues to make lewd suggestive comments. **


	2. Aiming and Failing at Crushing

**Thanks so much for CharlotteAshmore for betaing this story. She's been a huge help. **

**Sorry for posting this chapter later than usual. I fell behind in my schedule with the holidays. **

**I re-edited the first chapter, and added little things here and there, so if anyone wants to go back and re-read before reading this chapter, that would be great. I would probably recommend doing that. **

**And moving on to the story...**

* * *

><p><em>Killian was sitting at the bar, drinking. It didn't matter that he was underage. He had a fake ID that looked real enough. The bartender of the dingy, little pub he had chosen either didn't care if it was fake, or had more interest in making a coin than catching minors. <em>

_He took a gulp of his beer, looking around the room. He was alone, a runaway. He had no home, no parents. He was minding his business, when a man walked by. _

_The man was holding a cane, wearing what looked liked an expensive suit. He stopped by Killian's chair, tilting his head. _

"_You're not old enough to be drinking here," the man said, a Scottish lilt to his voice. _

_Killian snorted. "What do you know, old man? I have an ID."_

_The man smirked. "No doubt," he said. "But is it real?"_

_Killian just looked at the man. "Fuck you," he snarled._

_The man chuckled. "And a temper," he mused. "Should be interesting." He sat down in the stool next to Killian's. "Where are your parents?"_

"_Why do you want to know?" Killian asked, looking suspiciously at the man. _

_The man shrugged, his hands folded on the bar. "I can tell a minor when I see one. And you, son, are not old enough to be drinking." He pulled Killian's jug of beer away, and turned to face Killian head on. "So answer me this: Where are your parents? You shouldn't be here."_

_Killian rolled his eyes. "I ran away from home, ok?" He reached for his glass, but the man pushed it farther out of reach. _

"_Why did you do that?" The man asked, softly. _

_Killian shook his head in frustration. "Because my father's a dick, and my mom puts up with his ass, even after he beats her. I didn't want to be around them anymore. Does that answer your question?" Killian asked, harshly. _

_The man sat back, thinking. "It does," he said, simply. "You remind me of my own son," he added. The man stood up, grabbing his cane. He held out his hand. "My name's Mr. Gold."_

_Killian rolled his eyes again, but reached out and shook Gold's hand. "Killian," he responded, gruffly._

_Gold pulled back his hand, eyes blazing with ideas. "Well, Killian. How would you like to work for me?"_

* * *

><p>Belle stopped in at <em>Granny's <em>again, Friday morning. She really needed her hot chocolate fix again. And if she was being completely truthful, she wanted to see that man again. The man who's name she had no idea.

She grabbed her cup, and went to sit down. She looked around the diner, but didn't see him. She frowned. Disappointing. She shook herself, and picked up her book from inside her bag. Just because she couldn't speak to that man again, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy her novel.

She was in the middle of a chapter when she heard a tapping noise. Then a voice. "Invested in a book again, Miss French?"

Belle quickly looked up and saw him. He was standing in front of the chair across from her, smirking, hands resting on his cane. He still had great hair, Belle noticed, but that was silly. She just saw him yesterday. It wasn't as if his hair could have changed that much.

Belle realized she was sitting there gaping at him. She hurriedly shut her mouth. "You," she said, not knowing what else to say.

His smirked turned into a small grin. "Yes, me." He nodded at the seat across from her. "Mind if I sit?"

She shook her head. "Not at all."

He nodded himself, sitting. Resting his cane next to him, he leaned against the table. "What are you reading today, Miss French?" She held up her book. "Ah, _Wuthering Heights_," he mused. "I took you more for a _Jane Eyre _girl."

She blushed, smiling. "I already read it," she said, sheepishly. "I adore Charlotte, but I thought I should give the other Bronte sisters a chance."

"So you've taken to reading _Wuthering Heights_. Not the finest work of literature in my opinion, but interesting nonetheless."

She nodded, looking at the book. "Catherine is extremely annoying and too indecisive, and Heathcliff is way too brooding. He's so young that he wants to prove himself to Catherine, when really he should just be with her."

"You don't like brooding?" he asked, folding his hands underneath his chin.

"Not really," she responded.

He smirked. "Well, what about Mr. Rochester? He's older than Jane by twenty years, and yet she seems to have it all figured out."

Belle smiled, shyly. "That is true." She looked steadily at him, into his brown eyes. "But there is something about an older man that's more attractive."

He smirked. "An older man like me, Miss French?"

She blushed again, catching her breath. "Well, I didn't say you," she teased.

He grinned. "You were thinking it though."

Her smiled widened. "So sure of yourself, are you?"

He shrugged. "It comes with my profession."

"And what's that?" Belle asked.

He wagged a finger at her. "If I told you, than I'd have to kill you."

She pursed her lips. "I think you won't tell me, because then I could figure out your name."

He paused. "Well, that is the other reason."

She giggled, making him smile. "You are very mysterious, Mr. 'whatever your name is'. I'm going to crack the code. I'll figure you out, one way or another."

His eyes glinted. "You're so sure of yourself, Miss French?"

She smirked. "Well, it comes with my profession," she teased, throwing his words back at him. She couldn't believe she was teasing and flirting with this man. Normally she was so awkward around men, but there was something about this man that made her feel confident. Maybe it was his own confidence, radiating from him. Maybe it was the steadiness of his eyes, his unflinching gaze that seemed to send a tremor of excitement and mystery coursing through her. Whatever the reason, she felt free in speaking with him. Well, maybe it had to do with that fact that he liked to talk about books. That was always a win in Belle's book.

"And what is your profession?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You didn't tell me, so I don't think it's fair that I should tell you."

He smirked. "Touche, Miss French. I'll give you that one."

"I didn't know we were keeping points," she said.

He sat back in his seat, unlacing his fingers. "With me, you will realize that I always keep score." He said it so softly, that Belle blushed ten shades deeper again. He nodded towards her book. "You don't exactly seem to be liking Emily Bronte's work."

Belle shrugged. "It's all right, just not as good _Jane Eyre_. Jane is a heroine I can appreciate."

"And Mr. Rochester?" he asked, tilting his head.

Belle looked steadily into his eyes. "He's a troubled man, with many secrets."

"Yet," he said, "Mr. Rochester can't help falling for his young governess."

"And she him," Belle said, softly.

"Why is that, do you think?" he asked, staring inquisitively at her.

Belle paused, thinking. She haltingly responded. "He challenges her. Makes her question herself. ...And he is older. That right there brings an appeal to him. Jane was hopeless from the start."

"But he made so many mistakes," he countered.

"That is true," Belle nodded. "But Jane stays strong and leaves when Mr. Rochester's secret comes out."

He smirked. "But she returns to him again, in the end."

Belle paused again. "Because, Jane realizes that Mr. Rochester is her true love. He understands her like no one else."

He stared at her. Belle couldn't quite make out the look. He was looking at her like she was an enigma. He was also looking at her suspiciously. Belle wondered what secrets he was holding. He wasn't ready to trust her yet. Who was this man, so secretive that he couldn't even tell her his name?

He was like Mr. Rochester. Keeping secrets that would only hurt him in the end.

* * *

><p>Mr. Clark nervously entered Gold Enterprises, clutching an envelope filled with money. He'd scrounged through every drop of money in his bank account, trying to get eight thousand dollars over night. He'd barely managed, and had even been forced to dip into the money he had been saving for retirement.<p>

He walked up to the front desk asking for Mr. Gold's office. It was on the tenth floor. Clark tried to catch his breath the entire ride up the elevator. When the doors'dinged_' _open, he was petrified. He hesitantly stepped up to a young woman, with short black hair, at a front desk. Mr. Gold's secretary he presumed.

She glanced up at his approach. "How may I help you?"

Clark gulped. "I'm here to see Mr. Gold."

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, nicely.

"N-not exactly. Mr. Gold is expecting me though," Clark stuttered.

"All right. I'll ring him up for you," the secretary said. She called Gold's office asking about Clark. "He says you can go on in," she told Clark, after she set the phone down.

"T-thank you," he stuttered again.

Clark entered Gold's office, terrified out of his mind. His two broken fingers were bandaged, making it difficult to hold onto the envelope. Gold looked up at his entrance.

"Mr. Clark," the Scotsman greeted, pointing at a chair. "Have a seat."

Clark sat down quickly, not wanting to invoke the wrath of Mr. Gold. "Here's your money." Clark handed the envelope over, struggling with his fingers.

Gold lifted an eyebrow. "I wasn't sure if you would get it for me. If I'm being truthful, I had my doubts." He grabbed the envelope, and sifted through the dollar bills. He nodded. "You got it all." He sounded surprised.

"I didn't want to have any other bones broken," Clark said, breathlessly relieved. He had succeeded in his task. "I was pretty desperate."

Gold chuckled. "I can imagine." He nodded at the door. "You're free to go, Mr. Clark. Just remember what I told you: you still have to sell the merchandise I gave you."

Clark nodded, quickly. "I know. I won't forget, Sir." He stood up, practically running towards the door. He stopped abruptly, turning back to Gold. "You know, you're not as scaring in the day, as you are at night."

Gold smirked. "I'm still terrifying, Mr. Clark. You're just on my nice list right now. So I suggest you leave before that changes." Gold looked away, dismissing Clark.

Mr. Clark wasn't about to argue.

* * *

><p>David entered the bar, The Idiot, Friday night. He noticed, for a Friday night, that the bar wasn't filled with many people. It was somewhat run down, probably to help take away any attraction.<p>

He saw Jefferson sitting in a corner near the back, speaking to some other man. He was short and had a beard. The man didn't look too pleased to be speaking with Jefferson.

David recognized Jefferson from the band promotional posters. He wanted to rush over there and demand answers, but he knew that wouldn't help him at all. That would just get his cover blown. He ordered a beer, and sat down at a nearby table. He could hear a little of Jefferson and the other man's conversation.

"I'm telling you, Jeff, I don't want to be a part of any gang," the short man replied.

"Leroy, it isn't a gang. It's an operation. An empire," Jefferson responded.

The man, Leroy, snorted. "Sounds like a gang to me."

Jefferson sighed. "We could use a man like you."

Leroy barked a laugh. "I'm a lowlife drunk, who can't hold a steady job. I have no expertise to give you."

"But you're exactly the type of man to easily take off the grid," Jefferson said, emphatically. "You have no family, no job. We can place you in any undercover mission we might need. No one will miss you."

Leroy crossed his arms. "Just because I don't have a job, doesn't mean I want to get caught up in illegal business."

Jefferson looked like he was wracking his brain for an answer, one to get Leroy to accept. He rubbed his chin, conflict in his eyes. Finally, he came to a decision. He lowered his voice. David had to stretch his ears to hear. "What if I told you, you'll be working for Mr. Gold."

Leroy shrugged. "Never heard of him."

Jefferson sighed. "Of, course you haven't," he muttered. He straightened up in his seat. "Mr. Gold runs a huge law firm, here in Boston. You could work for him."

"Like at his office?" Leroy grumbled.

Jefferson hesitated, then nodded. "Sure, why not? So you won't be working for a criminal gang, like I told you. You'll be working for a lawyer who wouldn't dream of breaking the law. Like I said: an empire. Not a gang."

David wasn't sure if Jefferson was being sarcastic or not, but the news on Mr. Gold was huge. Mr. Gold ran a huge corporation, and was one of the top most sought after lawyers in Boston. David, nor any police officer, would have been surprised if he partook in any criminal business. He had so much power. But there was no evidence to pin anything on him.

For all David knew, Jefferson could have lied to Leroy to get the short man to accept the job. There was no proof that Mr. Gold had anything to do with Jefferson's meeting. For now, David was after Keiran Hook. He knew for sure, that Hook was one of the higher stationed men in the gang.

Leroy hesitated himself, finally sighing. He nodded, and shook the outstretched hand Jefferson offered. "I really do need a job," grumbled Leroy. He stood up, and left the bar.

David walked over and sat in the booth across from Jefferson. The other man looked surprised, not expecting David to sit down.

"Hello," Jefferson said, confused.

David nodded after Leroy. "I couldn't help but overhear you mention a Mr. Gold."

Jefferson eased back in his seat, a weary expression crossing his face. "Yes, but I just said that so Leroy would accept the job."

David frowned. "Damn," he murmured. "That would have been nice job to work for a man like him."

Jefferson raised his hands in a 'what would you have me do' manner. "Sorry, buddy. I've never met the guy."

"So what is it you do, exactly?" David asked.

"I'm a music promoter." Jefferson lifted a flyer out from his back pocket.

David dismissed the piece of paper. "What I meant was, what do you _really _do?"

Jefferson's eyes glinted. "You're not a cop, are you?"

David smiled. "If I was, why would I answer that?"

Jefferson snorted. "That's true." He eyed David, speculating. "Do you have any special skills?"

"Is this a job interview?" David asked.

Jefferson winked. "Not quite, but answer the question anyway."

David sighed. "Right now I'm unemployed," he said. "I got fired from my job for selling illegal contraband."

"Where did you work?" Jefferson asked curiously, crossing his arms.

"At an electronics store."

Jefferson quirked an eyebrow. "Like _The 40 year Old Virgin_?"

David paused. "Uh, yeah. Like that."

Jefferson looked immensely more interested then. "Did you sell off brands or illegal pieces of computers, or something?"

David nodded. "Yes, both actually."

Jefferson pursed his lips, squinting at David. "You looked too clean cut to be doing something illegal."

David spread his arms wide. "That's why I'm the perfect candidate. I'm unsuspecting."

Jefferson paused, thinking. Finally he snapped his fingers, and pulled out a pen and notebook from his jacket. He wrote something down. David saw that it was an address. Jefferson ripped off the piece of paper, handing it over.

"Show up there, next Wednesday," Jefferson pointed at the address. "I need to speak with my boss, before I can give unapproved jobs away."

David nodded, pocketing the paper. "I'll be there."

The both nodded at each other, David standing up. He left the bar, breathing a sigh of relief. The plan worked. He had a way in.

And Jefferson...well, he wasn't as good at detecting lies as Killian had said.

* * *

><p>Monday morning came sooner than Belle expected.<p>

She spent the whole weekend reading, looking over Hook's case file again, and over analyzing about the man from the diner.

When she stepped into the precinct, she noticed Ruby immediately. She was chewing her red cinnamon gum again, yawning between chews. Belle took off her jacket, sitting down.

"You look miserable," Belle commented.

Ruby yawned, revealing more of the inside of Ruby's mouth than Belle wished to see. "Long night," was all she said.

"Doing what?" Belle asked, innocently, setting her desk up. Ruby shot her a pointed look. Belle giggled. "Ah, that kind of night."

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, _that _kind of night."

"Who is he?" Belle asked, sharpening her pencil.

Ruby sighed. "His name's Victor. Jackass left me in the morning."

"I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad," Belle said. "You look tired enough. I'm sure it must have been a pleasant evening," Belle smiled, teasing.

Ruby snorted. "Pleasant evening, sure. Morning? Crappy. He left through the window, Belle."

Belle's eyes widened. "Oh." She paused. "That would be crappy."

"Thank you!" Ruby exclaimed. "Emma didn't seem to understand that when I was telling her a few minutes ago."

Belle hesitated. "Were you telling her, or complaining to her? Because there is a difference, Rubes."

"Telling!" Ruby also exclaimed. She paused, thinking. "Or was I complaining?" She asked herself softly.

Belle shook her head, grinning. Before she could set out another case file, Emma came walking up.

"Meeting in Captain Mills's office," she said. "It looks like David might have an in into Hook's gang."

That perked Ruby up. She shot up, rushing to the office. Belle followed after, more slowly in her heels and skirt.

Regina was standing behind her desk, arms folded. Like before, the only ones in the room were Emma, Ruby, Belle, and David, other than Regina.

Captain Mills nodded at David. "Good work, Nolan," she praised.

"Does this mean he's found a way into Hook's circle?" Ruby asked, excitedly.

"Not quite," Regina said.

Emma elaborated, at Belle and Ruby's confused frowns. "Jefferson gave David an address to meet up at on Wednesday, at some warehouse down by the docks."

"So I might have an in," David added. "We'll have to see."

"One thing that was disturbing though," Regina said, "was the mention of Mr. Gold."

"Who's Mr. Gold?" Belle asked.

Emma snorted. "Only the richest man in Boston. He owns Gold Enterprises, a colossal empire, and he's a ruthless lawyer to boot. That man could get away with murder and no one would know about it."

Regina sighed. "That's why he's so difficult to pin down, but Jefferson _did_ mention to another man, that if he accepted a job offer, he would be working for Mr. Gold."

"Do we know that for a fact?" Ruby asked.

Emma sighed. "No, we don't."

David cleared his throat. "Jefferson told me that Mr. Gold's name was just a cover to get the other man to accept the job. So, we don't know if Mr. Gold is in on anything."

"What does he look like, this Mr. Gold?" Belle asked. Regina typed into her computer, turning it around for Belle to see.

But Belle wished she hadn't seen anything. Belle's breath was caught in her throat. She recognized Mr. Gold... because he was the man she had been crushing over for the entire weekend.

Ruby shot her a confused look, on hearing Belle's gasp. Belle shook her head, not answering Ruby's silent question.

"But right now," Regina was speaking, "Mr. Gold isn't our priority. Hook is."

"But you don't think," Ruby asked, "that Mr. Gold is the one Hook is working for?"

"Why would you guess that, Lucas?" Regina asked.

Ruby shrugged. "Because Emma mentioned how she couldn't believe that Hook was the leader. How he wasn't smart enough. If Mr. Gold owns an empire, surely he's smart enough to be the leader of a gang."

Belle wished that Ruby would stop talking. She didn't want to think that way about the man she spent time with discussing books. The man she was most assuredly crushing on. Not that Belle thought they were in a relationship. Clearly they weren't. But, in those two conversations, Belle could not stop thinking about him. He was a mystery waiting to be uncovered. Clearly that mystery was turning into reality.

But now, Belle realized, the entire time she was gushing over books, and falling out of chairs, she was doing it in front of a billion dollar man...who owned an empire...and might be a part of illegal business. That really was not what Belle wanted to hear.

Regina tilted her head. "Gold is smart enough, sure. But we have no proof, so it's not worth wasting time on speculating. We know Hook's a threat. We're going after him." She looked around at all the people in the room. "Is everyone clear on that?"

Belle, Ruby, Emma, and David nodded. Regina also nodded. "Then everyone's dismissed." She turned to David. "Good luck, Wednesday night."

Everyone left Regina's office. Ruby was talking excitedly, but Belle kept her head hung low. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

So much for having crushes.

* * *

><p>Gold was at work, in his extremely nice elegant office, at Gold Enterprises. He was working on a thievery case. Some idiot decided to rob a bank, and Gold was the defense attorney building a case for the man.<p>

He dropped his pen down with a sigh, settling back in his seat. He enjoyed being a lawyer, though not exactly a defense attorney. He would have much preferred prosecuting men in an instant. Some would call him a hypocrite for wanting to put men away for doing things he surely did once or twice before in his life, but he never really did care what others thought. Knowing why these men committed crimes, would make it easier to send them to jail. It would also make it easier to not have to deal with as much competition. If they were in prison, Gold would be able to run his empire more smoothly.

He had just picked up his pen when his intercom buzzed. He pushed the button, saying, "What, Miss Blanchard? I have work to do."

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Gold," Miss Blanchard, his secretary stuttered, "but your wife his here to see you."

He rolled his eyes. "My _ex_-wife, Miss Blanchard."

"I'm sorry, Sir," she repeated. "Your ex-wife. She's very adamant to see you."

He sighed, grumbling under his breath. "Send her in."

His door opened, and Milah, his _ex_-wife, entered the room. She was blazing with fury, holding a folder. She slammed it down on his desk.

"So good to see you too, Milah," Gold said, sarcastically.

"I just came by to make sure you knew when our court hearing was," she said, lifting her chin haughtily. She opened the folder, revealing the date of the hearing.

"So we can get this bloody divorce on the way, no doubt," he muttered, lifting his pen to make notes on the case he was working on.

She gabbed the pen from his hand. He lifted an eyebrow, glancing up calmly. Milah threw the pen to the ground. "You never seem to have the ability to listen to what I have to say," she seethed.

Gold stood up, grabbing his cane. He walked around his desk to pick up his pen. "I'm not listening to you because I already know when it is. May 10th, at nine in the morning. I'm a lawyer after all, dearie. I can remember dates."

Milah snorted. "You never seemed to remember my birthday, or our anniversary."

Gold chuckled, and scoffed at the same time. "Oh, it's not that I didn't remember, Milah. I just never wanted to partake in any celebrations with you. They're so tedious." He sat back down.

Milah's eyes widened in outrage. "You son of a bitch. We're getting this divorce because you had the audacity to sleep with your other secretary. Cora, was her name?"

Gold's lips thinned. "I only did that, after you slept with your pool boy. Phil was his name, if I'm correct." He paused, tilting his head, lifting his pen again to get back to work. "I never knew what you saw in him. I mean, he cleaned _pools_ for a living."

Milah sneered. "Well, at least he paid attention me. _And_ didn't drive our son away."

Gold froze. Mentioning his son was a low blow. "Neal left of his own accord. I did nothing," he tried to say calmly.

Milah scoffed. "Please, Mason. You were so overbearing, and controlling. Neal felt stifled, so he ran away."

Gold squinted at Milah. "Well, what about you, dear wife? You were so jacked up on a bottle of...well...anything, really, that you never paid any attention to the needs of our son." He threw his pen down. "You were too focused on fucking the help, and drinking your sorrows away, that you never gave a rat's arse about Neal."

Milah flushed, closing her hands into fists. "Don't think this is all my fault, Mason."

"I never said I did." Gold closed his eyes. "I know I've made mistakes." He opened his eyes, blinking. "But don't come into _my_ office accusing me of something that was _both_ our faults." He nodded at the folder. "I know when our hearing is, _wife_. Now get the fuck out of my office."

Milah scowled, grabbing the folder. "Don't be late," she muttered, walking to the door.

Gold snorted. "I never am, dearie. You're the one that can't seem to be punctual."

Milah rolled her eyes. "I've gotten better."

"Yes," Gold nodded. "It must be the pool boy. He's had such a great influence on you." He was clearly being sarcastic.

Milah looked ready to punch Gold in the face. "Just be there, and we can get this damn divorce done with."

"With pleasure," Gold said, as Milah left the room.

He finally could get back to work, but his soon to be ex-wife rattled him up. She actually made him think of the young Miss French he met Thursday, and had the pleasure of speaking to again Friday morning. He wasn't able to stop by the diner this morning, having an early meeting.

Miss French and Milah were nothing alike, only both having brown hair, but the thought of his wife, reminded him of Miss French. Both his ex-wife and Miss French intrigued him the minute he met them. But Miss French seemed sweet, and a little naive. Innocent, more like. Nothing like Milah. He had enjoyed speaking to Belle about books. Her eyes lit up, and her whole body exuded happiness. He had never seen anyone so passionate about books before. It was a very entertaining sight.

Of course, he couldn't deny that Miss French was a beautiful young woman. Way to beautiful for someone like him. He was also way too old for her, being over twenty years her senior, he guessed. She hadn't told him her age, but she looked young. Gold rolled his eyes at his fancies. Miss French was a beautiful woman who made discussing books fun. That was all. He had not looked into Miss French's life, though he had the resources. He respected her privacy, as she respected his. Though she did say she would 'crack the code.' That made him smile. She was a funny little thing.

However, he would never drag a woman like her into his world. They were too far and separate, but he was looking forward to speaking to her again.

About books, of course.

* * *

><p>Belle stopped by at <em>Granny's <em>again, slightly hoping _he _wouldn't be there, and yet, really hoping he would be._ Mr. Mason Gold_, she reminded herself. She knew his name now, not that she wanted to.

She wasn't going to tell him that she knew who he was. She would have to tell him her job, because of it. If Mr. Gold was a possible criminal, she couldn't well tell him she was a detective.

She entered the diner, glancing around. Her breath quickened when she saw him, sitting at a back table, reading again. She quickly ordered her hot chocolate, hoping he wouldn't see her. But the book goddesses of Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Louisa May Alcott, were not on her side, for Mr. Gold raised his eyes at that moment, spotting her.

_Crap_, she thought. She hesitantly smiled, grabbing her drink. He indicated for her to step over to his table with a nod. Belle obliged.

Her high heels clacked on the tile floors, as she walked to stand behind the chair across from him. "Mr, G- uh, 'whatever your name is,'" she quickly corrected. He squinted at her, frowning at her slip. "Enjoying your book?"

He didn't question her, thankfully, and smirked, lifting the cover. _Catch 22_, it read. "Immensely," he said, nodding at the chair in front of her. "Care to sit down?"

She hesitated. "Sure." She dropped her bag next to her, folding her hands on the table.

"How are you today, Miss French? Your mysterious job still going all right?"

She blushed, trying to smile. "Yes, and yours?"

He grinned. "Still as complicated as ever."

The comment made her giggle. Being in his presence made her feel more comfortable again. She had overanalyzed too much. He obviously didn't know that she knew who he was. Under other circumstances she would have told him. With the threat of him being a possible criminal, she was hesitant. She could have told him that she happened to stumble across his name through innocent situations, but Belle knew she couldn't do that. Better for her not to mention it at all, lest she slip up.

Gold held up his book. "Have you read it before?"

"Yes, for school," Belle responded. "Paradoxical situations are very interesting."

He tilted the cover in his direction. "I happen to enjoy putting people into paradoxical situations that they can't escape." He was teasing, Belle could tell. But it made her wonder if he was referencing his possible criminal past. She shook herself, smiling at his comment.

"I'm sure you do," she finally said. "A powerful man like you could easily make it difficult for a person to escape your clutches." She smiled to let him know she was teasing back.

"Who said I was powerful?" His eyes glinted.

She nodded at his clothes. "Your suit..and the way you hold yourself. You're clearly a powerful man."

He smirked. "That I am, Miss French."

"You still wont tell me your name, though?" she asked, tilting her head, mock pouting.

He chuckled. "Not yet, dearie. You still have to earn it."

"I'll keep trying," she said, confidently. "You'll have to tell me sooner or later."

"That would imply you want to see me again," he grinned.

Belle blushed again. "Maybe. I like talking to you about books. It's the highlight of my day." She absolutely meant that. Despite her confusion over his profession, Mr. Gold still intrigued her.

He smiled. "And for me as well," he murmured.

She shook her head. "You don't mean that."

"I do," he said, simply.

Belle smiled herself. She moved her eyes behind Mr. Gold's head and saw a clock. She noted the time, jumping up. "I have to get to work," she said, quickly, picking up her bag. "I'll be late."

He leaned back, looking up at her. "We don't want that. Good day, Miss French."

She nodded. "Have a nice day," she responded. Before she turned to leave, she hurriedly asked, "Will you be here tomorrow morning? I noticed you weren't here yesterday." She sheepishly glanced at her feet.

He smirked at her admission. "I will be. I wouldn't want to miss our morning discussions. I'd hate the thought of you going to someone else to discuss books."

She giggled. "I have no one else. Just you." With those words, she quickly left the diner, trying to walk as fast as she could in her high heeled shoes.

* * *

><p><strong>I love writing Gold and Belle's conversations. They're so much fun. <strong>

**Also, Phil, they pool boy Milah slept with, is Phillip. I couldn't have it be Hook since Hook works for Gold and is kind of like a son to him, so poor Phillip became the pool boy instead. But hey, at least he's good looking. ;)**

**Upcoming: more into Killian's and Gold's backstory, David moves farther into the criminal world, and Belle decides to get a furry friend. **


	3. Pseudonym Names from Sixties Sitcoms

**I'm a little late on this chapter, sorry for that. It wasn't flowing as well as past chapters I've written. Also, I'll be starting classes next week (college, sigh), so I might not have as much time to write, especially writing two stories, but I'll try my best to update regularly. **

**Again thanks to CharlotteAshmore for editing this chapter.**

**Hope everyone enjoys the chapter!**

* * *

><p>Belle, after she left work, went to see her father. It had been awhile since they'd spoken, both busy with work. She opened the door of his little flower shop, <em>Game of Thorns<em>, to see one of his workers at the register. She figured her father was working in his office, managing the shop and money.

She followed a back door, to her father's office, and saw that he was where she expected him to be. Moe, her father, had his head bent over a pad of paper, jotting some things down.

"Hi, Papa," Belle announced, entering the room.

Her father looked up, a smile on his face at seeing his daughter. "Belle!" he exclaimed. "What a wonderful surprise. I wasn't expecting you to show up any time soon. You probably have better things to do than spend time with your old man."

Belle walked to a seat facing Moe's desk, and clasped her hands in her lap, after sitting down. "Why would you say that, Papa? I love spending time with you." She smiled after he laughed at her comment.

"Oh, Belle. Always so diplomatic," Moe said, pointing a pencil at her. "You take after your mother."

Belle's smile dimmed a little at the thought of her mother. It had been three years since she'd passed away from breast cancer. Belle tried not think of her mom too much, not liking to remember the pain of her death.

Moe sat back in his seat, grimacing. "I'm sorry, Belle. I shouldn't have mentioned her."

Belle waved a hand. "It's all right, Papa. You were trying to be nice. I miss her," Belle said, softly.

Moe became grim. "Me too, dear. She would be scolding me right now for upsetting you."

Belle smiled again at her father's words. "That's true. She was one to speak her mind."

Moe folded his hands beneath his chin. "What brings you here to see me?"

Belle shrugged. "I just missed you. It's been a few weeks since we last spoke. I wanted to know how you were doing."

"Same old, same old. Owing people money like I always do," he muttered.

Belle frowned. "You owe people money? What for?"

Moe dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Nothing to concern yourself with, Belle. Just getting loans for the shop. I have to repay them."

"I'm not exactly comfortable with you owing money, Papa," Belle said, concerned. "How much?"

"Just a couple thousand dollars," Moe responded.

Belle's eyes widened. "A couple_ thousand _dollars? Papa, that's not exactly something to be so nonchalant over."

Moe pointed at her. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would be worried. It's my problem, Belle. I don't want you carrying my burdens."

Belle sighed. "I know, Papa, but you're still my dad, and I worry for you."

Moe's eyes softened. "I appreciate that, Belle, but I can handle my financial issues myself."

Belle slumped her shoulders. "All right. I'll leave you alone on that."

"Thank you," Moe said. "Now, what's been going on with you?"

Belle hesitated, deciding not to mention Mr. Gold to her father. He didn't need to know about her love life, or lack thereof. It always made him uncomfortable, and Belle didn't think telling him about her flirting sessions with a possible criminal would make him feel any better. Omission was always best with her Papa. "You know, same old, same old," she said, repeating his expression. "Trying to crack down on crime bosses, and all that jazz." She smiled, teasing, especially after her father laughed.

"Just another day at the office, huh?" Moe settled back against his seat.

Belle shrugged, innocently. "A person's got to do what a person's got to do."

Moe nodded, agreeing. "That's my little girl. Trying to save the world."

Belle ducked her head, embarrassed by his praise. "Oh," she looked back up remembering something, "I was going to tell you Papa, that I've decided to get a cat."

"A cat?"

"Yeah," Belle nodded. "It gets a little lonely living by myself, and I could do with some company."

"You could always come back and live with your old man," Moe said, trying to help.

Belle laughed, patting her father's hand. "Papa, I love you, but I'm a grown up now. I can't live with you anymore."

Moe chuckled. "I know. Thought I would just offer."

Belle patted his hand again, and stood up. "I should be getting home. I have some reading to get to."

"You're going to choose reading over your father?" Moe pretended to sound affronted.

Belle laughed. "Well, you know how much I love to read."

"That I do," Moe nodded. As Belle headed to the door, Moe called out, causing Belle to look back. "And grownups don't call themselves grownups, Belle. We refer to ourselves as adults."

Belle laughed again. "Ok, Papa, duly noted." She left the room, shaking her head at her father's antics. Her papa was an interesting man, though one she worried about. She thought of his words, about owing people money. Belle knew that her Papa wasn't the most responsible when it came to financial means, but she told herself not to get too concerned.

After all, her father _was_ an adult.

* * *

><p>On Wednesday night, David arrived at the harbor, gripping the piece of paper Jefferson had written the address on. The detective got out of the car, slowly walking to a cannery where a supposed meeting was going to take place. He had a hidden recorder on him, but lacked any communication with his commanding officers. It was too much of a risk bringing many items with him. He essentially had to go in blind and alone.<p>

He knocked on the door, and Jefferson answered. David was expecting more of a secret code to be asked for, or questions to be answered, but all Jefferson did was look him up and down, and nod for David to enter.

Once he was in the cannery, David saw two other men, milling around. One of them was the man named Leroy, he had seen at the bar Friday night.

Jefferson indicated with a hand for David to join the other men in the middle of the room. Once he did that, Jefferson nodded, and clapped his hands. He stood in front of all three men, demanding attention.

"All right, men. I have asked you here to see if I can trust you."

"Trust us for what?" Leroy grumbled.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "Leroy, you know what. All of you," he roamed his eyes over the men, "have been a part of something fishy in your past lives. My boss is looking for more men to expand his empire, and you three are perfect candidates."

"But you said I wouldn't be a part of any gangs," Leroy demanded.

Jefferson rolled his eyes again. "I lied," he said, simply. David quietly snorted, while Jefferson resumed speaking. "Anyway, I need to know if I can trust you. Make sure none of you are cops and such," as he said that, his eyes locked with David's.

David didn't move a muscle on his face, trying his best to look innocent.

"I need to know," Jefferson said, "if you men are ready to be a part of something big. An empire isn't something to be messed with."

"What benefits do we get from this?" the third guy asked.

"What benefits?" Jefferson asked, clasping his hands. "The benefits, John, are for you to learn to shut up when I'm speaking." The man, John, flushed. Jefferson cleared his throat, and straightened his vest. "The benefits, John," he repeated in a more amiable tone, "are safety. Become a part of Hook's empire and you'll never have to fear for food or shelter or money again." Jefferson pointed a finger at each man individually. "And all you men have to do, is a little questionable business for Hook. Do as he and I say, and there will be no problem."

"Are we ever going to meet Hook?" David asked.

Jefferson frowned. "Eventually." He tilted his head. "I just realized that I never asked you for your name."

"James," the detective said. David guessed that the protocol for joining the mob didn't include much insight into a person's record.

Jefferson nodded. "James. Eventually, if you agree to our terms and rules, then you will meet Hook. Of course, after you've proven yourself."

"And how do we do that?" Leroy asked.

"When the time comes, I'll let you know," Jefferson said, ominously. David had to resist the urge to chuckle. This meeting felt much like a fraternity hazing. He was surprised when he didn't have a black bag tied over his head, and men standing around candle light, in middle aged robes, chanting. "If this sounds like an interesting proposition for you, let me know. Just don't go bragging to the cops of what you've seen here today. It won't be pleasant for you if you do." Jefferson stepped up closer to David, ignoring the other two men.

"So, James," Jefferson said, wrapping an arm around David's shoulder, "you are an intriguing fellow."

David cleared his throat. "Why do you say that?"

Jefferson frowned. "I'm half convinced that you are a cop, trying to infiltrate the organization I'm a part of."

"If that were the case," David responded, "then why would you tell me that you are seemingly disreputable organization?. If I was a cop, then I would have enough evidence to convict you."

Jefferson squeezed David's shoulder. "No you don't. If you are truly interested in joining our gang, than we better not find out that you are a police officer. It wouldn't end well for you." He patted David's arm. "And besides, I'm not the one you would want. Any idiot would know to go after Hook. I'm just a decoy."

David nodded. "You're right." He stepped out from under Jefferson's arm. "But, I'm not a detective. I'm just a guy who is fascinated by the dark side of life. I would love to make a lot of money, in a short amount of time, and something tells me that joining this particular organization will make that happen."

Jefferson smirked. "If you _are _a cop, then hopefully you're a corrupt one. If not..." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter now. We need more men, and you seem qualified." He pointed a finger David, lowering his eyes threateningly. "But don't think you can try to get one over on us. We already have one of our own working under the nose of a captain at one of your stations."

David stopped cold in his tracks. He'd assumed that Hook was capable of something as shady as placing one of his men to infiltrate their team, and go undercover as a police officer. The only problem was, suspicion was now confirmed. David just didn't have a clue as to who it could be.

David snapped back to the present, and shook his mind clear of his troubling thoughts. "You have a mole," was all he said.

Jefferson nodded. "Yep. So don't think you can be one either." He reached and grabbed David's hand to shake it. "Welcome aboard, James. I like you, so don't do anything stupid." He pulled his hand away. "I really do hope you're not a cop." With that, Jefferson dismissed David, going to speak with Leroy and John.

David felt like his mind had just been shaken loose and left to rattle around feebly within his skull. He had to figure out who the mole was, and try not to worry that his cover could be blown before he could find real evidence to convict this gang. David knew though, that nothing was as easy as it sounded.

And none of this sounded easy.

* * *

><p>Killian hated detective work.<p>

He would have much preferred helping Gold plan their next mission, than sit in a conference on how to proceed detecting criminals. He was a criminal. He didn't need to know how to catch one.

Gold, however, wanted to make sure he was in secure position with the police. Ergo, send in Killian to be a mole, and gather information. So far, he had nothing. Knowing Captain Mills though, Killian figured she had a plan of some sort, he just didn't know what. He and the Captain weren't exactly on good terms after he obtained illegal evidence in a case. He had been on probation for a little while, and Gold had been pissed.

Now, though, Killian was finally starting to get back into the Captain's good graces. Just not enough to be let in on any secret plans, he guessed. He was essentially sent back to the bottom of the food chain.

Gold had _really _been pissed when that happened.

Killian kind of screwed up the older man's plan. Thankfully for Killian, Gold viewed him as a son. Being fired was never an option.

Killian was flipping a pen between his fingers, listening to the man up front, Graham, drone on about finding evidence to convict a criminal, when Killian saw the cute blonde Lieutenant pass by the window. Killian stood up from his chair, ignoring the scowl Graham sent his way, and followed after Emma Swan.

"Lieutenant Swan," he called, eliciting said woman to turn around. She scowled herself when she saw Killian, gripping her mug tighter in her hand.

Emma sighed. "What do you want, Jones? If you think I'm going to sleep with you, then you are surely barking up the wrong tree. Don't ask again."

He smirked, spreading his arms wide. "What can I say? I'm a dog."

Emma snorted. "Yeah, and a smelly one at that." She started to walk away, when she turned back, pointing a finger. "And I'm your Lieutenant by the way. Don't speak to me like we're equals."

Killian pouted, mocking. "Your little assistants sure speak to you like you're equals." He nodded in the direction of Ruby and Belle's desks.

Emma smirked. "Yeah, because I actually like them, and they know their place." She eyed Killian up and down, disapprovingly. "Unlike some people," she muttered, walking away.

Killian remained standing in the hallway, smiling. Gold wouldn't like him spending his time flirting with blondes, but a guy had to find some entertainment in his boring job.

At that moment, Killian's phone rang, signaling it was Jefferson. He answered the cell, snapping, "What?"

"Don't get testy with me, Jones. Was a certain blonde ignoring you again?" Jefferson chuckled on the other end. Jefferson knew not to call Killian by his pseudonym name, Hook. Killian knew his phone wasn't wired, as there was no suspicion linking him to anything, but one could never be too careful.

Killian rolled his eyes, easing into the conversation. Jefferson wasn't one to take things too seriously. "She knows she can only resist so long," Killian teased, then sobering in an instant. He lowered his voice, walking into a stairwell, not to be overheard. "How did last night go?"

"Just fine," Jefferson responded. "Two of the men seem really promising."

Killian snorted. "That means that they're lowlife drunks, doesn't it?"

Jefferson chuckled. "Would you have it any other way?"

Killian smirked. "Not at all."

Jefferson hesitated. "There is another man that I'm not so sure about."

Killian straightened up, frowning at Jefferson's tone of voice. "What do you mean?"

The other man sighed. "I think it's a cop, trying to infiltrate us."

Killian gritted his teeth. "Like a mole?"

"Yeah," responded Jefferson. "He's interesting though. I can't quite tell, but I know he didn't tell me his real name, so he'll be difficult to track down. Unless of course, you're into doing some forensic work, and wanting to ID this guy."

Killian pursed his lips. "A cop in our midst could be fun. Trying to break him down, until he decides not to be a cop any longer. Of course, you know not to mention who I really am. I don't want this guy to find out."

"I know, Jones. I imagine that would be weird to find out you work with the guy. Talk about awkward," Jefferson sounded way too pleased with the scenario.

"We try to kind this guy," Killian growled, "before he finds me."

Jefferson laughed. "Oh I know. Let's go catch a rat."

* * *

><p>Killian met Gold at a nice little restaurant downtown, one off the beaten path, after work. The older man already had his hands resting atop the handle of his cane, sitting properly in his seat.<p>

Killian internally rolled his eyes. No slacking for the boss. Nothing but the most respectable posture imaginable.

Gold nodded at Killian when he entered, signaling for the younger man to sit.

"Punctuality is key, Mr. Jones," Gold murmured. "I expect you to be more so in the future."

Killian glanced down at his watch to see he was a few minutes past the time they'd agreed to meet up. Now he did roll his eyes, sighing. "You know, old man, you are way too much a stickler for details. Can't you lighten up? I'm only three minutes late."

Gold folded a napkin over his lap, still being the picture of power. "No, I can't lighten up, Killian. That's not the way I do things," he smirked, flipping a lock of hair away from his eye with one finger.

Killian snorted. "I know. You really need to get that stick out of your arse before it becomes permanently lodged up there."

Gold's lips twitched, not enough to actually smile. "And you need to wipe that pompous smirk off your face before it becomes unflattering. It will, dearie. The women will only love it for so long."

Killian chuckled. "What do you know about women, Gold? You're getting a divorce, remember? It doesn't seem to me like you're an expert."

"Unlike you?" Gold raised one eyebrow.

Killian spread his arms wide. "Well, you said it."

Gold finally chuckled, letting go of his firm, serious mask. "That I did," he murmured. Being Mr. Gold though, he'd had enough of small talk, and wanted to get down to business. "How did Jefferson fare last evening?"

"He did all right," Killian said. "You know Jefferson, flamboyant all." Killian frowned. "Though he did mention a potential cop in our midst."

Gold's hand halted midair before he could take a sip from his glass. "A police officer?" Killian nodded. "Do we know who it is?"

Killian shook his head. "Not yet, but Jefferson thinks we should have fun first."

Gold sighed. "Of course, he does. What does he want to happen? Get the officer to confess that he's a cop by beating him and turn him to our side?" Killian just pointedly looked at Gold. The older man sighed again. "Of course," he repeated.

"I know," Killian replied. "Sounds fun."

Gold scoffed, shaking his head. "You two are demented."

The younger man tilted his head, furrowing his brow. "And what are you?"

Gold steadily looked at him. "Your worst nightmare," he said, softly.

Killian laughed. "I know, old man. Don't get on your bad side. I've heard it before."

"So don't forget it," Gold responded. Just then, a man hesitantly approached their table, clinging onto his baseball cap. "Ah, there you are, Anthony," Gold greeted the man.

Killian rolled his eyes, knowing that Gold was conducting more of his 'business.' The man, Anthony, sat down at the table, closer to Killian than Gold, he observed.

"M-Mr. Gold," Anthony stuttered, nodding.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Nelson?" Gold asked the stuttering man. "I presume you're here to ask for money."

Anthony nodded, desperately. "My shop isn't making as much money anymore, and the bank wont send me a loan for fear I won't be able to pay it back."

Gold rested his hands underneath his chin. "And what makes you think I would give you money? Shouldn't I be worried that you won't pay me back?"

Killian flitted his eyes back and forth between Gold and Anthony. He had never really seen Gold make a transaction before. Killian wondered why the hell anyone would take money from Gold. He was practically raised by him, and still found the older man intimidating, despite his teasing nature with him. Didn't these men know that they would be screwed over ten ways to Sunday by asking for money from Gold as compared to a bank? But that was what Killian enjoyed so much about his mentor. Gold was ruthless.

Anthony gripped his cap tighter between his hands. "I know that if I'm given the money, I can repay it. I just need to be given the chance," he pleaded.

Gold pursed his lips. "I _can _give you the chance, Mr. Nelson, but first I need to know what I'll be funding. Something tells me when you called last week, you weren't completely honest with me. Anthony Nelson isn't your real name."

Anthony squirmed in his seat, gulping. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because I'm good at detecting lies," Gold replied, softly. "When I asked for your name over the phone, you hesitated in giving it to me. You made it up on the spot. Also because 'Anthony Nelson' is the name of a fictional character on a sixties sitcom." He tilted his head, squinting his eyes. "Now, why would you not want to give your real name? I can't exactly do business with you if can't be honest with me."

Anthony started to sweat, and looked ready to bolt. "B-because I'm worried for my family. I don't want you to hurt them."

Gold frowned, lifting his hands in a question. "Now, why would you think I would hurt your family? You haven't done anything wrong. Unless of course, you _don't_ plan on repaying me, in which, we _will_ have a problem."

Anthony's eyes widened perceptibly. "I want to make a deal with you, Sir. Just give me the money, and I'll pay it back, I promise."

Gold stared hard at the other man, until he finally nodded. "Meet me at my office tomorrow morning, and we'll go over the details."

Anthony grabbed Gold's hand, shaking it quickly. "Thank you, Mr. Gold."

Gold pulled his hand away, gently. "Though, I still want to know why you wont give me your name."

Anthony hesitated. "I...have a daughter, and I don't want her to get caught up in this mess. It would make my life a lot easier, and hers as well, if I didn't tell you my real name."

Gold shrugged. "Fair enough. I can still have you sign under your alias. Doesn't matter to me, just as long as you follow the contract and rules."

Anthony nodded, desperately. "I will," he agreed.

Gold dismissed the man with a nod. "Tomorrow morning," he reminded the man.

"Tomorrow morning," Anthony repeated, standing up, and leaving the restaurant.

Gold turned to look at Killian, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

Killian snorted. "That poor man. He won't know what hit him, until he's made a deal with you."

Gold calmly rested his hands on his cane again, smirking. "I would advise Mr. Nelson to run for his life."

* * *

><p>Gold entered <em>Granny's <em>diner the next morning. Despite his utter disapproval of spending time in a diner, much less a diner called _Granny's_, he was pleased that he had decided to take tea that one morning before going to his office. Otherwise he would not have met the beautiful Miss French. Sometimes running late and stopping at the closest eating establishment had its perks.

He didn't bring a book with him today, hoping to speak with Miss French, and not waste his time pretending to read. He smirked when he already saw here in the diner, sipping out of a mug, and reading, like usual.

He ordered tea, and walked to stand behind the chair across from Miss French. He cleared his throat when she didn't look up, smirking even more when she blushed at seeing him.

"Mind if I sit, Miss French?" He pointed at the chair.

She quickly waved a hand in the direction of the seat. "Of course...have a seat."

He settled down, resting his cane against the table, and folded his hands underneath his chin. "How are you today?"

She smiled a little, hesitantly. "I'm fine, like usual. Nothing really big happening," she said, sheepishly.

He frowned. "That's too bad. A young woman like you should be out having adventures and experiencing life."

She blushed again, which made him smirk _even _more. But instead of taking on the shy kitten approach, she decided to tease him, and looked indignant. "I'll have you know, Mr. ..." She broke off. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Mr...?" Gold asked, folding his arms, and leaning back in his seat.

"Well, I _still_ don't know your name, so I get caught up trying to call you something," she replied. Gold, of course, had no idea she just lied to him. What he also didn't know, was that she _hated_ lying to him.

"How about this, Miss French. You come out to dinner with me next Saturday night, and I'll tell you my name." Gold didn't exactly know why he'd just asked Miss French out on a date. He did find her beautiful, and fascinating to speak with. He figured, with his divorce coming up, he would take more chances. He was a man that never played by the rules, and the thought of taking Miss French out on a date, brought him immense pleasure. He also wanted to tell her his name. It wasn't as if he was keeping it from her for any particular reason, mostly because he enjoyed teasing her. He had meant it though when he told her that names mean power.

But Miss French seemed too sweet to want to control him. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. He also just wanted to go out on a date with a beautiful woman, but that was beside the point.

Belle's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, not expecting Gold to say what he'd said...but Mr. Gold _had_ been right in saying she didn't live enough. She wanted to do something she normally wouldn't do, and who better to do it with, than a man that intrigued her, and piqued her curiosity.

While Belle was analyzing so much in her mind, she forgot to answer Mr. Gold right away. His smirk started to slip, when she didn't give a response.

"You don't have to, of course," Gold murmured, his eyes hardening a little.

Belle shook herself from her mind funk, and quickly shook her head. "No!" Belle exclaimed, disagreeing with him.

He quirked an eyebrow. "No, you don't want to go on a date with me?"

Belle shook her head again, wanting to slap herself. "No, I meant I'm not agreeing with _not_ going on a date with you." He frowned, looking confused. Belle really wanted to slap herself.

"I'm a smart man, Miss French, but you're not making clear sense." Gold moved in his seat, trying to get comfortable. "Let's try this again. Miss French, would you like to go on a date with me?"

Belle took in a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes, I would like that."

Gold nodded, smirking. "Are you sure? You don't even know my name. How can you trust me?"

Belle giggled at his teasing tone. "Well, you'll tell me your name on our date. Then I'll know if I can trust you or not."

Gold glanced around the diner, not quite sneering. "I'll take you somewhere better than this."

"What, you don't like the diner?" Belle pursed her own lips, teasing him back.

He eyed the paper tablecloth with disapproval. "It's not exactly the most elegant of places, with plastic silverware and overpriced lasagna."

Belle shook her head. "I met you here,_ and _you were here before I was."

"That is true," Gold acknowledged. "But the only reason I stopped in here was because I was a little behind schedule, and it's very close by to where I work."

Belle propped her chin in a hand. "And where's that?"

He paused, pointing a finger at her. "Ah, you'll just have to find out on our date, next Saturday night."

She sighed, dropping her hand. "Fine. But I was going to tell you off earlier and let you know that I live my life plenty."

He cocked his head to the side. "Do you?" He said it very softly.

That drew Belle up, and she hesitated. "...Well, yes. I have a lot of adventure with my job...and I'm getting a cat!" She added, proudly, not knowing what else to say.

He chuckled. "Now, how can I argue with that?"

Belle harrumphed, nodding her head. "You can't, that's what."

"I must say, Miss French, that I'm truly enjoying your braver, more teasing side. It's refreshing from all the blushing you do." Of course, at that moment, Belle blushed, but Gold wasn't complaining. Her blush was simply enticing, and made her more attractive. Though her blush, only showed how young she was. He didn't even know her exact age, but he could tell he was quite a bit older than her. He didn't understand why a young woman, like Miss French, would want to spend an extra amount of time with him. He wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, but if the young woman wanted to spend an evening with him, he wasn't going to complain.

He knew he was attracted to her, and curious about her. He knew he wanted to speak with her for hours. He also knew, that with Miss French, fun was all they could have. He could go on a date, and enjoy it, but once the evening ended he wouldn't be able to tell Miss French who he really was. Nor did he want to.

He was just getting out of a terrible, corrupt marriage. He didn't need another relationship, but he definitely could have fun.

And Miss French could offer him that.

* * *

><p>Belle met Ruby at her desk later that morning, anxiously wanting to talk to her friend.<p>

"Ruby," Belle said, hurriedly rushing to her desk. The other girl glanced up curiously, flipping through a magazine. Belle rolled her eyes at Ruby's lack of focus to her job. "I have a date," Belle quickly said.

Ruby's eyes widened. "You have a date?" She sounded hopeful, yet ludicrous at the same time.

Belle nodded. "I have a date, with Mr. G..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

Ruby quirked an eyebrow. "You have a date with who?" She leaned forward on her desk, dropping her magazine. "Is it the guy you've been meeting with for your morning chocolate fixes? Discussing books, and all that."

"Yes, that guy." Belle slumped in her seat. "But there's something I have to tell you."

Ruby widened her eyes again, mockingly. "Oooh, sounds serious."

Belle dropped her head, nodding dramatically. "It is."

"Is the world ending?" Ruby asked. "Is the guy actually a pervert? Have you lost your favorite pair of shoes?"

Belle lifted her head from hands, eyeing Ruby. "That doesn't make any sense."

Ruby shrugged, indifferent. "No, you just don't have my superior knowledge to grasp what I am saying."

Belle smiled, rolling her eyes. "Ruby, I'm being serious. I have a problem."

Ruby sobered up. "What's wrong?"

Belle leaned closer to Ruby, lowering her voice. "The man I've been speaking with-,"

Ruby cut her off. "The one you're going on a date with!" Ruby squealed.

Belle waved a hand. "Yes, but you need to know..." She hesitated, taking a deep breath. "I know his name."

"Oh, he finally told you?!" Ruby shook her shoulders, excitedly.

Belle winced. "Not quite. I know his name because Captain Mills told me."

"Huh?" Ruby shot Belle a strange look.

Belle took in another deep breath. "His name is Mason Gold."

Ruby...well, saying she looked shocked was an understatement. "Mason Gold?" Belle nodded, still biting her lip. Ruby continued to gape at her. "Mason Fucking Gold?" Belle winced again, still nodding. Ruby then tried to form words. "H-how?" she stuttered.

"How?" Belle didn't understand the question.

"How did this happen?" Ruby demanded.

Belle sighed, squaring her shoulders. "I just met him at a diner. I never knew who he was until Captain Mills told me." Belle held up her hands at Ruby's shocked expression. "I know what you're probably thinking. How could I agree to go on a date with a possible criminal?"

Ruby shook herself out of her surprise. "That's not what I was thinking. I was just shocked that quiet, studious, little Belle would agree to go on a date with one of Boston's most powerful men... like ever."

Belle frowned. "Not because he might be a criminal?"

"Please, Belle," Ruby said, waving a wand, "you said the word _possible_. We don't know what that man is up to. He might not be a criminal at all, but a respectable, peaceful, lawyer."

Belle's frown deepened. "Did you really just say, 'respectable, peaceful, lawyer?'"

Ruby paused. "Huh, yeah I did."

Belle paused as well, before proceeding to giggle madly. Ruby started laughing as well. The irony of her words were too funny.

Belle finally calmed herself, wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh, Ruby...," she sighed. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, you said yes, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," Belle nodded.

Ruby pursed her lips. "Then there is nothing to think about. You'll go on a date with Mr. Big Shot Lawyer, and then he'll bring you back to his mansion, and fuck the virgin right out of you."

Belle's mouth dropped open, as she swatted lightly at Ruby's arm. "Ruby!" Belle exclaimed. "Why would you say that?"

Ruby popped a piece of gum in her mouth, shrugging. "Because it's me?" She gave Belle a pointed look. "And you know I'm right."

Belle sat back, blushing. "You don't know that. It's just one date. I didn't agree to have sex with the man."

Ruby raised her eyebrows suggestively. "But, you were wondering what it would be like, weren't you?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "No I wasn't, because some of us can think without our minds in the gutter."

Ruby laughed. "Anyway, Belle, if you are so nervous to go out with him, then why did you say yes?"

Belle paused, thinking. "Because he intrigues me, makes me curious...and he's great at discussing books," she added, sheepishly.

Ruby rolled her eyes, smirking. "You and your books. So where is he taking you? A man with as much money as he has, it better be nice."

"I don't know. Just somewhere better than the diner, he said. He's taking me out next Saturday, so I'll probably see him again before then, to get more details."

Ruby nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Good, because_ I_ expect details."

"I'm not telling you everything, Ruby," Belle said, stubbornly crossing her arms.

Ruby eyed her. "Why the hell not?" Belle shot Ruby a pointed look. The other girl couldn't help but agree, sighing. "Because it's me," Ruby muttered.

Belle nodded, satisfied with that answer. She couldn't help but feel some nerves when thinking of Mason Gold. She had the urge, and desire to go on a date with him, a feeling she never had before. Belle just couldn't believe that a man with as much power as Mason Gold seemed to have, would want to take a lowly, young woman like herself out on a date. She didn't know what he saw in her, but she wasn't going to complain. She really did like talking with him, and wanted to spend more time with him.

It wasn't like she was looking for love or anything. She knew it was good for her to get out more, and experience life, just like Mr. Gold said. He had been right in saying she didn't get out much. She usually sheltered her own self, especially after her mother's death. Mr. Gold was the first person to make her feel confident. Probably because of his own power, Belle felt less shy and sheltered around Mason Gold. It was a nice feeling, and she didn't want to lose it.

Besides, she knew the date would be fun.

And she needed a little fun in her life.

* * *

><p><strong>If anyone is confused, Moe<em> is<em> Anthony. The funny thing is, I had no idea that the name Anthony Nelson was a character on the sitcom _I Dream of Jeannie_, and wrote the name coincidently. I just randomly chose the name Anthony and the surname Nelson is my mom's maiden name. CharlotteAshmore pointed that out to me when editing the chapter. Thought that was pretty funny. So I guess Moe's a fan of the show, and it seems Gold has heard of it as well...**

**Upcoming: A secret is confirmed, a date happens, and Moe continues being a fan of sixties sitcoms. **


	4. Digging a Little Deeper

**Sorry I'm so behind in updating. I've been so busy with my school work, and when I do find the time to write, I'm usually pretty tired. For anyone that is wondering though, I will finish this story. Please just be patient.**

**The first scene is a continuation from a flashback scene in chapter two, just in case any one forgot the scene between Gold and Killian, when they first met. **

**Hope everyone enjoys the chapter!**

* * *

><p>"<em>So, what is it that you do exactly?" Killian asked, staring incredulously at the older man, Mr. Gold, who was sitting next to him at the bar. <em>

_Gold smirked. "I run Gold Enterprises."_

_Killian just shook his head, frowning. _

_Gold's eyes widened. "Gold Enterprises? A billion dollar company. I'm a lawyer."_

"_Oh, so that's why I haven't heard of it," Killian muttered, taking a sip of his beer that he had taken back from the older man. "A stodgy, lawyer firm. I'm not exactly in with the law, so to speak. I don't think hiring me is the best idea."_

_Gold chuckled. "Au contraire, Killian. I'm not exactly in with the law myself."_

_Killian hesitated from taking a drink. The glass hovered over his lips. He quirked an eyebrow at Gold. "Who _are_ you?"_

_Gold rested his hands calmly on the bar. "I told you. I'm a lawyer." He paused, shrugging. "Just one with extracurricular activities." _

_Killian eyed the man next to him. "Why would you want someone like me to work for you? I'm only seventeen."_

_Gold swiveled on the stool, to look at Killian head on. "Because the younger you are, the easier it is for me to train you." _

_Killian slammed down his beer in frustration. "To do what? You haven't been exactly forthcoming in your information, old man."_

_Gold lifted an eyebrow, a very arrogant expression. "Haven't I?"_

_Killian stared incredulously at Gold. "No, you haven't." _

_Gold smirked, turning back around in his seat. "Oh, Mr. Jones, you are very amusing. I really would benefit from a man like you."_

"_Didn't you hear?" muttered Killian. "I'm seventeen. I'm not exactly a man, or is your hearing so bad that you've started inventing things."_

_Gold laughed outright. "Like I said, young Killian. I would love to have you work for me. You have sprit, and soon enough, you'll have other men flocking to your side. They'll want to follow you." _

"_Follow me?" Killian asked, confused. "This job isn't like, a way for you to molest me, is it? I've seen movies about priests putting their hands on young choir boys."_

_Gold chuckled again. "No, it's not. Trust me, I have no interest in young boys. I'm married. To a woman."_

"_Didn't stop other men," Killian said into his beer._

_Gold just shook his head in amused exasperation. "All right, since you don't believe me. I partake in different fields. Some legal, others...not as much." He took out a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, and wrote an address on it. "Come to this restaurant tomorrow, and I'll tell you exactly what I want from you."_

_Killian snorted, grabbing the piece of paper. He threw it straight to the ground. "I'm not showing up at some restaurant, in the middle of nowhere, so you can play godfather to me. I'm not buying it. I'm inclined to think you're just an old, perverted man." Killian stood up, walking towards the door. He paused, when Gold called out to him. _

"_Killian, you're a runaway with no home. Where else are you going to go?" _

_Killian turned around to see Gold sitting at the bar, hands clasped around the handle of his cane. "Why do you want me to work for you?" Killian asked again. _

_Gold steadily looked at him. "Because I see so much potential in you."_

_Killian wavered. His parents had never been proud of him, never thought he would amount to anything. But looking back defiantly at Mr. Gold, Killian couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be something great. In Mr. Gold's expression, Killian received the distinct impression that if he showed up at that restaurant, he would become something better than he had ever imagined. _

_Killian slowly walked back to the bar, and bent down to pick up the piece of paper he had thrown to the ground. When he stood up, he saw that the older man was smirking and looking extremely smug. _

_Killian wanted to know what it would be like to have that much confidence, that much power, that in one look, he could exude that much._

_ He agreed to show up at the restaurant tomorrow._

* * *

><p>After her confession to Ruby about her date with Mason Gold, Belle quickly hurried home after work, her mind in a whirlwind of thoughts. She was excited about her date with Mr. Gold, coming up that Saturday. She was just filled with doubt over whether or not she should tell Lieutenant Swan, or heaven forbid, Captain Mills. Belle was still unsure about Gold's crime affiliation. Belle really didn't want to go on a date with a criminal, but she did want to spend time with a charming, book loving man.<p>

As Belle made her way home, over analyzing too much, she passed by an animal shelter. A picture of a cat and dog were painted on the brick building. Belle kept on saying she was going to get a cat for company, she just forgot about it. Looking at the picture of the cat on the wall, Belle decided the time was better than never. Belle wasn't exactly spontaneous, so just buying a cat without preparing for one was a little outside her comfort zone, but her talk with Ruby about taking chances rang through her head. She entered the animal shelter...and then became the owner of a kitten named, Eyre, after her favorite heroine, Jane Eyre. Looking down into the kitten's eyes, a blue Persian, Belle knew in that moment she needed to be more impulsive. She needed to stop over thinking everything, and live a little.

Buying her new kitten reassured her about her date with Mr. Gold.

She figured going on one date had never hurt anybody.

* * *

><p>Moe French, the following morning, nervously entered the office of Mr. Gold. Moe was practicably trembling, especially when he saw Gold casually leaning in his black, high-back chair, hand's clasped beneath his chin.<p>

Moe gulped when Gold greeted him. "How are you today, Mr... 'Nelson' was it?" Gold's eyes glinted, his smirk prominent.

Moe gulped again. "Uh, uh...I'm fine, thank you. Sir" he added quickly.

Gold waved a hand. "You don't have to call me 'Sir.' Just call me Mr. Gold."

Moe hesitantly nodded. "All right...Mr. Gold."

Gold's smirk eased into a grin. "There, much more casual." He leaned forward in his seat, grabbing several pieces of paper. "How much money do you need, Mr. Nelson?"

"Oh, wow, right into business," Moe said, taken aback.

Gold glanced up from where he had been assembling documents. He smiled, which didn't ease Moe's anxiety any less. The smile was pretty scary. "Of course. I find most of my clients don't like to stay in a business deal with me for any longer than necessary. So yes, let's get right down to business."

Moe shakily raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Ok."

Gold looked expectantly at him. "Money, Mr. Nelson. How much, and what will I be funding?"

"My flower shop, _Game of Thorns_, uh, Mr. Gold. I just need a little bit more money to help keep the shop going. It seems that not as many people are buying flowers lately, with it being summer. Greenhouses are getting in my way," Moe said, haltingly.

Gold waved his fountain pen impatiently. "Yes, but you still haven't told me how much money you need."

Moe shrugged. "However much you can give me."

Gold looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I have a lot of money, Mr. Nelson. Money for _me _won't be the issue. Money for _you_ on the other hand, is a major issue. That _is_ why you're here, in my office, if I am correct?"

Moe nodded, not liking the idea of irritating Mr. Gold. He seemed like the type of man who broke kneecaps in his spare time.

Gold settled back in his seat. "Now, I am going to ask you one more time, Mr. Nelson. How much money do you need?"

Moe speculated, not having a clear idea. He admittedly wasn't the best business man. "Oh, 5,000 dollars for advertising. I need to get people coming into my shop again, and I can't spare that kind of money at the moment. I can't even spare a hundred bucks."

"I'm not an advertising company," Gold replied.

Moe nodded quickly. "I know. That's why I just need the cash. That's all I'm asking for."

Gold chuckled, and moved forward in his seat again. "Clearly you don't want much of my help. And I don't blame you." Gold looked steadily at Moe's face. "I would be scared of myself too."

Moe quirked his lips hesitantly, just wanting to get the loan and leave. "So do we have a deal?"

Gold just stared for a few minutes, finally nodding, picking up his pen. "We'll go through the paperwork, and you'll soon have an extra 5,000 dollars on your hands, Mr. Nelson."

Moe sighed in relief. After he and Mr. Gold went through all the documents, and Moe finished signing his alias name, he was starting to feel comfortable.

But then Mr. Gold decided to speak up. "You'll have five months, Mr. Nelson to get your business advertised to all of Boston. After that, I need you to pay me back, in which you will have another month to obtain the money. That doesn't seem too difficult, does it? A thousand dollars a month." He quirked his head to the side.

Moe's hand, hovering over a document, started to tremble. "Yes, Sir. I understand."

Gold chuckled again, though it wasn't comforting. It was terrifying. "What did I say, Mr. Nelson? You don't have to call me 'Sir.'"

"Of course, S-, uh, Mr. Gold." Moe looked at his signature he had just written down. "Are we done here?"

Gold nodded once. "Yes. Have a nice day, Mr. Nelson. I so wish that for you."

Moe's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because you're indebted to me now."

* * *

><p>David went to meet Jefferson again, late Friday night, at another bar downtown. David guessed this was somewhat like an initiation. Maybe he was going to be welcomed into the organization.<p>

He stepped inside the bar, and spotted Jefferson towards the back of the room. The other man was dressed in a flashy, green waistcoat. David thought that as a man trying to keep his crime affiliation on the down low, Jefferson sure did stand out in a crowd.

"There you are," Jefferson said, standing up. "Cop man."

David quirked his head. "Remember, I'm not a cop."

Jefferson smirked. "Sure you're not."

"So, what am I doing here?" David asked, gesturing around the bar. "I thought this business would be more in the line of smuggling goods across the border, or breaking a man's kneecaps."

Jefferson laughed. "You wish, James. And since when did you get funny?" He eyed David up and down. "You're acting...charming."

David shrugged. "Just a part of my personality, I guess."

Jefferson snorted. "Funny, because I recall you having the personality of paint drying."

This time David chuckled. "I guess there's more to me than meets the eye."

Jefferson paused. "I would say so," he murmured. He nodded for David to take a seat, right as Jefferson received a phone call. He sighed, answering. "What?" He paused, listening. "All right." He turned to David once he finished. "You stay here. I have to go speak with one of the superiors in the back."

David tried not to look too excited. "Mind if I join you?"

Jefferson chuckled. "You wish, Charming." Jefferson followed a door into some back room.

Of course, it wasn't as if David was just going to stay put. He stood up and followed after the flashy waistcoat wearing man. Really, it was Jefferson's fault that he made everything so easy. He didn't exactly have men keeping an eye on David, nor did he pretend to hide anything. Either he was just a terrible criminal, or he wanted David to eavesdrop in on the conversation. David wasn't sure which he wanted more.

Like a little boy playing with gadgets, he stepped up to the back door, thankfully shrouded in darkness so no one could ask him what he was doing, and pulled out one of his hidden ear pieces. It had an enhancing microphone on it, so David could clearly hear through the door.

"What the hell, Hook? You're not supposed to be here!" Jefferson exclaimed.

At the mention of Hook's name, David had to resist the urge to walk right into the room and demand answers, but he knew that wouldn't help anything. He had to be patient and listen.

Another man responded in an English accent. "The boss man wanted me to come, and check on you. Make sure you're doing a good job with the new recruits."

"Seriously?" Jefferson sounded dumfounded. "Gold sent you? Why the fuck would he do that? He knows we're entertaining a possible cop. You could be exposed."

David caught his breath, for many reasons. Was Hook the mole? And was Mason Gold working with these criminals? He was an obvious suspect, but nothing had ever been pinned on the man. David might just have received information that could help expose who really ran this criminal empire.

Hook laughed. "I know, but that's the fun in it."

"You're fucking crazy," Jefferson muttered. "Gold's fucking crazy."

Hook snorted. "No, you're fucking crazy if you think Gold sent me. He didn't. I came on my own."

Jefferson paused. "You really _are _crazy. You came here without his permission?'

Hook huffed. "The old man's not my father. And he doesn't need to know. I just wanted to be sure that you're handling our cop friend out there, who, coincidently, is probably listening in on our conversation right now."

David jerked back, quickly making his way back to his seat, not wanting to expose himself. He didn't need to blow the entire operation before it even really began. David's mind was reeling at the information he had obtained from Hook and Jefferson. If Hook was the mole...well that made David more eager to find out who he was. And if Gold ran this crime organization...then taking it down would be a lot more difficult than planned.

* * *

><p>"We have some unsurprising news," Captain Mills muttered the following Monday morning. Emma, David, Belle and Ruby were all centered around Regina's desk. "Detective Nolan informed me that supposedly Mason Gold is in league with Hook."<p>

"I overhead Jefferson speaking with Hook," David supplied. "The Mad Hatter mentioned Gold's name, and that he had sent Hook to check in on him."

"So Gold's the boss," Emma murmured.

Belle's heart started beating erratically. This was not what she wanted to hear.

"We can't jump to conclusions," Regina said, holding up a hand, "but Gold is definitely on our suspect list from now on."

"If only we could get close enough to him, to figure out the truth," Emma said.

Regina huffed. "If only. He would see through one of us in a minute. Being a lawyer, he is very perceptive."

Ruby shot Belle a pointed look, causing Belle to blanch. "Belle!" Ruby whispered, harshly. But of course, Ruby couldn't be quiet to save her life, as due to Captain Mills glancing over in their direction.

"Something you want to tell us, Lucas?"

Ruby quickly clamped her mouth shut. "Uh..."

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Ruby started fidgeting with her hands, twirling her fingers around the other ones. "It's just..." She glanced over helplessly at Belle.

Belle sighed, knowing she need to tell her bosses about her extracurricular activities. "Captain Mills?"

Regina moved her gaze from Ruby to Belle. "Yes, French?"

Belle took in a deep breath and spoke. "I have a date." Belle was so nervous, that apparently her brain decided to stop working at that moment so she couldn't finish her sentence.

Regina looked amused, but slightly irritated at the same time. "I'm glad for you, French, but that doesn't explain why Lucas looks like she's about to spontaneously combust."

Belle shook her head, clearing her muddy thoughts. "No, Captain Mills. What I meant was, I have a date...with Mason Gold." She paused. "On Saturday." As if that tidbit of information needed explaining.

Regina's eyebrows reached her hairline, completely surprised. But it was Lieutenant Swan that spoke.

"What the hell? Either you're messing with us Belle, which isn't you, or you're telling the truth." Emma paused, thinking, finally nodding on a decision. "How did you manage a date with notorious, shark Mason Gold?"

"Isn't he old enough to be your father?" David asked.

Belle flushed under the scrutiny of everyone's looks. "We met at a diner, and got to discussing books. I had no idea who he was at the time. Then he asked me out, but since I thought that_ maybe _he wasn't a hardened criminal, I figured going out on a date would be all right. Now I know that's not the case." She hadn't even taken a breath during her little ramble.

Regina's eyebrows were still touching her hairline, but she slowly lowered them. "You have a date with Mason Gold?"

"He's really charming," Belle said defensively.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Regina muttered. "That man could talk himself into and out of any situation. It's just the matter of what we do now."

"What _do_ we do now?" Belle asked.

Regina sighed, running a hand over the back of her neck. "It's not as if I can send a rookie detective into the field."

Emma looked surprised. "Captain Mills, we can't send Belle to glean information on Gold."

Belle became indignant, but tried not to lose her control. "But that's what I'm here for. To become a detective."

"I know," Regina said. "But Gold won't be easy to take down."

Belle finally understood what Captain Mills was suggesting. "Wait. You want me to use my date with Mr. Gold to spy on him?"

Regina sighed again. "I'm hesitant and leery. I don't want to throw you to the wolves...but this might be the only chance to get close to Gold." She directed her sharp eyes on Belle. "He doesn't know you're a detective, does he?"

"He probably wouldn't have asked her out if he did, " Ruby suggested.

"Not necessarily," David commented. "He might know Belle's a detective. If Hook is onto me, he might know about you, and warned Gold."

Belle emphatically shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I never told him about my job, and he has no reason to suspect me. I...trust him." That clearly was a mistake to say.

"You can't trust a man like him, French," Regina said, harshly. "But...he might not know." Regina acquiesced.

"I don't feel comfortable spying on him," Belle said.

"You're a detective Miss French. If Gold finds out who you are, I'm sure he won't be so trusting anymore," Regina said, sighing, turning to look at the others in the room. "We have to be careful, and Belle needs to be prepared." She looked steadily at the small brunette. "Are you up for doing this, French? It could help us so much in stopping criminal activity, especially a crime ring like Hook, and apparently Gold, are a part of. I thought that's why you became a detective."

"To stop the bad guys," Belle murmured softly to herself.

"Don't let your guilt get in the way," Regina advised.

Belle was conflicted. After she had painstakingly made up her mind about going on a date with Gold, Belle convinced herself that he couldn't be a criminal. Now there was true evidence and reason that he was leading a crime organization. She liked the man, but her duty to her work was more important. She knew what the right decision would be.

She took in a deep breath. "I'll do it," she said, steadily. "I'll go on my date with Mason Gold...and I'll try my best to discover if he is a part of this organization." _Or worse, leading it_, she thought to herself.

Regina nodded, determination in her eyes. "Then let's go bring him down."

* * *

><p>When Saturday arrived, Belle was in a tangle of nerves. She had run into Mr. Gold at the diner during the week, but she flew past him, only gleaning when and where they would meet up. Gold seemed startled at her abruptness, and she knew Captain Mills wouldn't be too happy if she blew her cover before the date even began. But Belle just told Gold that she was running late for work, not wanting to face him. He seemed to have believed her.<p>

Now that Saturday was here though, Belle knew she couldn't just run away from him again. She was wearing a dark, blue dress with a lace overlay, one which Ruby said Gold would not be able to resist. But Belle wasn't too happy about the fact that she wore a hidden wire underneath the right strap of her dress. It kind of dampened her mood. Correction: extremely dampened.

Belle knew that she should have been more excited to get her first big break when it came to her job. For the first time, she wasn't looked at like Lieutenant Swan's assistant. Emma had briefed her over the week, preparing her for the date. But that still didn't help Belle feel completely ready. Really, all she felt was nerves and anxiety. She didn't want to lie to Mr. Gold, but she couldn't leave a possible crime leader to just walk around like he, well...wasn't a possible crime leader.

Once Belle arrived at _Trattoria Amalia_, an elegant little Italian restaurant, Belle could feel herself sweating. She hoped it wasn't obvious. She resisted the urge to sniff her underarms, really not wanting anyone to notice _that_, so she just had to hope that her bundle of jitters would go undetected.

She entered the quaint building, and instantly saw Mr. Gold standing casually with his hands on his cane, near the hostess desk. Belle immediately wanted to turn around and run away, for fear that she would be caught. But she wasn't sure if she was afraid of Gold catching her, or Captain Mills, for not doing what she was supposed to do. So Belle squared her shoulders, and convinced herself that deceiving a man she still (admittedly and irrationally) had a crush on, was the right thing to do.

"Hello," she said quietly, walking closer to him.

Her guilt became ten times worse when Gold grinned broadly. "Hello, Miss French. I wasn't sure if you were going to come tonight." Of course, his smile made him more attractive, which wasn't helping any matters.

She giggled nervously. "Why would you say that?" It couldn't possibly be that he guessed she was a detective sent to spy on him, and that he couldn't believe she would show her face in his presence, as that was sheer audacity.

He tilted his head. "You seemed to run out on me the other day at _Granny's _and I received the impression that you were uncomfortable around me."

Belle brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, her face and neck warm. "Why would you think that?"

"From the way you rambled and stuttered that you were late for work. You always seemed punctual before, so I assumed your erratic behavior had something to do with me," he smirked.

"Oh...yeah," she barely got out. "That. I really was running late for work. Nothing to do with you."

His grin deepened into a smile. "Well, I'm glad." He reached his arm out to indicate for her to step before him. As the hostess led them to their table, Belle was trying not to focus too much on his hand on her lower back.

"Why did you come, if you thought I wasn't going to show?" Belle asked, once they were seated. She opened her menu, trying not to look too hard at Gold. She figured if she stared at him for any considerable length of time, she would confess everything. But then Belle wanted to smack herself. She was a detective, damn it! She wasn't going to let her guilt over liking a crime warlord get in the way of her job. And she especially wasn't going to let her guilt over lying to said warlord cause her to become unfocused.

Gold opened his menu as well, his finger flipping through the pages. He looked up at her, holding her gaze. _Shoot_. His brown eyes were very soothing, and addictive. She was hopeless.

"I came," he said, "because I wouldn't want to miss our date."

"But what if I hadn't showed?" She felt breathless looking into his eyes. She really needed to pull herself together. She'd never mooned over a man, and especially not his eyes. Belle didn't know if it was her emotions that were on turbo drive, or if Gold just had that effect on her.

"Well, you did show," he said, simply. "And I would have waited all night. I still owe you my name."

Belle smiled a little, resisting the urge to blurt out something stupid, say like, she _already_ knew his name. "I haven't forgotten, Mr. 'Whatever your name is.'"

Gold hesitated, thinking something over. Finally he nodded, coming to a decision. "It's...Mason Gold. My name that is." Gold was never one to hesitate, but something about this girl made him nervous in good way. He felt like earning her approval. Which was absurd since, he assumed, an innocent woman, like Belle French, would most assuredly _not _approve of his 'other' activities. Mainly his illegal ones.

Of course, what Gold didn't know was that Belle already knew about his 'other' activities. And she most assuredly did not approve. That still didn't stop her from finding him fascinating though.

"Mason Gold," she tested out loud, finally nodding. "I like it." She definitely liked it better coming from his mouth than Captain Mills. But not as much as she loved her own name coming from his mouth. His accent was beautiful. _And sexy too_, she admitted to herself.

He frowned a little, but she could tell he was teasing. "You sound disappointed."

Wow, did he catch on fast. She quickly shook her head. "I'm not disappointed."_ Not in the way he thought_. "I was just expecting...more, I guess. You don't tell me your name for almost two weeks, I was suspecting something bigger."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry my name didn't live up to your standards."

She smiled a little. "No, it doesn't. It's...better." Not exactly a lie. She liked his name. There was something pleasing to the ear about it. But she hated knowing who he really was.

His eyes softened at her confession. "And your name is beautiful."

Belle blushed under his gaze. "Well, 'Belle' does mean beauty in french."

"I know," he said, softly.

She shook her head, laughing. "Of course, _you _do. You seem like someone who knows every language in the world."

"Well, only five, but who's counting?" He winked.

"You speak five different languages?" She was astounded, and impressed.

His expression became smug. "English, of course. Spanish. Easier to deal with certain clients that way, since Spanish is quickly becoming the predominate language in the world. German and French. Can you guess the other?"

Belle racked her brain, not wanting to assume anything. "Uh, Gaelic?"

"Now why would you say that?" His eyes were glinting. He was clearly teasing her.

"Well, you're Scottish. I assumed maybe you want to be closer to the native language." Belle felt like cringing. She sounded, well, slightly idiotic.

He finally put her out of her misery by laughing. "Yes, actually. I enjoy reading old manuscripts and documents written in Scotland around the Middle Ages and so on. As some are written in Gaelic, I felt like the appropriate thing to do was learn the language."

"Why read those types of documents? Aren't you a lawyer?"

He tilted his head at her. "I never said I was a lawyer."

Belle felt like jumping out of her chair, and flouncing away. "Yeah, I know...but the minute you told me your name, I recognized it. Gold Enterprises is a huge company, it's hard to miss."

He was still scrutinizing her, though he didn't look guarded or angry. Yet. "Yet, you didn't know who I was all along?"

Belle quickly wracked her brain for an answer, knowing that if Captain Mills was listening to this right now, she would not be happy. Belle finally came up with a solution, and shrugged her shoulders. "I've heard your name before, but I never knew what you looked like."

He stared at her for a moment, Belle internally cringing underneath his gaze. She thought she had just blown her cover, when Gold smirked, looking back down at his menu. Belle sighed in relief. She was safe, though she knew she shouldn't slip up again. Gold's penetrating stare felt like a close one.

After they had ordered, the awkward tension, on Belle's part anyway, dissipated.

"Mason?" Belle asked hesitantly, as he quirked an eyebrow. "Why did you ask me out on a date?"

He paused in taking a sip of wine. "I told you. I owed you my name."

"But besides that." Belle began nervously twirling her hands beneath the table.

Gold's eyes softened. "Isn't it obvious, Miss French?"

Belle wasn't sure if that was a loaded question, so she just shrugged and shook her head.

"I asked you out because you are clearly a beautiful, intelligent woman. I enjoy your company."

Belle felt the tension leave her shoulders at his words. So he asked her out, not because he knew the truth about her job, but because he truly enjoyed spending time with her. "I came on this date since I knew it would be outside my comfort zone, and one of my friends convinced me it would be a good idea."

Gold smirked, just as their food was placed on the table. After the waiter left, he spoke. "So, you agreed to my date because it forced you outside your comfort zone. Am I that frightening?" he teased.

Belle giggled, ducking her head. "No. I...like you. I wanted to go out with you, because I enjoy your company as well." There was another reason she was on the date, but she wasn't about to tell Gold that.

He nodded, looking pleased. "I'm glad." As they began to eat, Gold's tough questions started to arise, despite Belle being prepped for them. "So you know what I do for a living, Miss French," Gold said, taking a bite of his Scampi de la Casa, "but what is it you do?"

Belle almost choked on her Pollo al Marsala, causing a piece of chicken to lodge in her throat. She coughed, drinking water to get it down. Gold looked concerned.

"Are you all right?"

Belle nodded, swallowing her food. "Yes, I just wasn't prepared for that question."

He frowned. "I just asked you what you do for a living. Is it a secret?" He was teasing, but Belle couldn't help but feel that Gold wouldn't take well to secrets, despite keeping his own.

"No. I work at a flower shop, actually." It was agreed upon that Belle would 'work' at her father's flower shop, Game of Thorns, since it would be easy for her to get a job there in case Gold went snooping. Her father was informed that she was going undercover and was pretending to work at his shop, Moe just didn't know Belle's exact mission. Mainly Moe didn't know that the man he had just borrowed money from was the same man his daughter was trying to catch. Of course, Belle didn't know any of this either.

"Oh," Gold sounded interested. "What store?"

Belle hesitated, not exactly wanting to get her papa involved, but she went ahead anyway. "A little shop, called _Game of Thorns_. I work there with my father."

Now Gold looked _even_ more interested. Almost too much so. "Oh?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, have you heard of it?"

Gold smirked. "I believe I have. I've passed it before on my way to work. Never gone in though." He could have told Belle that he knew her father, since he had just had a meeting with 'Mr. Nelson' earlier in the week, but Gold wasn't sure if Belle knew her father had taken money from him. By the fact that she seemed innocent in the matters of knowing him, Gold figured she didn't know about her father's transaction. He didn't want to spoil the evening by telling her unpleasant news.

"That's all right. I guess you don't buy flowers for many people."

Gold shrugged. "In my line of work, flowers don't usually come up."

As the evening went on, Belle's nervous energy lessened a little. By the time the two of them parted ways, Belle was anxiously awaiting to see him the following Monday at _Granny's_. She knew that she shouldn't have been so excited to see a criminal that she was trying to convict, but she couldn't help the way Mr. Gold made her feel. It was exciting, and exhilarating all at once. His presence affected her in a way she had never felt before.

But when she returned home, and took off the hidden recording wire attached to her dress, Belle reminded herself not to feel anything for Mr. Gold. Belle had a feeling that if she did, nothing would go as planned.

And the mission wouldn't end well, either.

* * *

><p><strong>The story is finally getting on its way. Belle has to keep secrets. Clearly Gold <em>is<em> keeping secrets. This is probably going to turn messy. **

**Upcoming: Belle tries to find out more about Gold's secrets, Gold tries to keep Belle from finding out more about his own secrets, and rats are still trying not to get caught. **


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